mmmmm 


,:':::;:::::;;.;::■:■::,.::,,::■;:!■  :::■•:)::  ;;;jf!|?;i;-;.i; 


Pre.ien 
Date  /■( 

j\ro 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

Fr.nuanAct       Galifomia  State     Library 


SEcrioN  I 
books  issued 
Legislature,  < 
If  any  persoi 


pafs'd 


:,i  nil 
A  the 
Bsion. 


he  shall  forfeit  and  pay  to  the  Librarian,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Library 
three  times  the  value  thereof;  and  before  the  Controller  shall  issue  his 
warrant  in  favor  of  any  member  or  orticer  of  the  Legislature,  or  of  this 
btate,  for  his  per  diem,  allowance,  or  salary,  he  shall  be  satisfied  that 
such  member  or  officer  has  returned  all  books  taken  out  of  the  Library  by 
hmi,  and  has  settled  al)  accounts  for  injuring  such  books  or  otherwise. 
Sec    15.     Books  may  be  taken  from  the  Library  by  the  members  of  the 
Legislature  and  its  officers  during  the  session  of  the  same,  and  at  any 
time  by  the  Governor  and  the  officers  of  the  Executive  Department  of 
this  State  who  are  required  to  keep  their  offices  at  the  seat  of  government 
the  Justices  of  the  Supreme  Court,  the  Attorney-General  and  the  Trustee! 
of  the  Library. 


th 

0» 


ROUGE  ET  NOIR. 


%  m\h  of  Diulcn-Dadcu. 


FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF 

EDMOND   ABOUT, 

BY 

£1.    fto 


^^'\i'^ 


PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON,  EEMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER. 

624,  626  &  628  MARKET  STREET. 
1873. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  IIAFFELFINGER, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 

STEREOTTPEB  DT  J.  FAaAN  k  BON,  PHILADELPHIA. 


TO) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAQB 

Captain  Bitterlin 13 

CHAPTER  11. 
Emma •        25 

CHAPTER  HI. 
Meo 39 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Innocent  Dkeamings 51 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Play-Bills 64 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Eighth  Passenger 90 

CHAPTER  VII. 
A  Tour  in  Switzerland 101 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Baden 119 

zi 


«i 


V 


XU  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

AUKELIA loo 

CHAPTER  X. 
Rouge  et  Noir 148 

CHAPTER  XL 

M.  SiLIVERGO 161 

CHAPTER  Xn. 
The  Cafe  of  the  Musketeers 175 

CHAPTER  XIH. 
How  Meo  Refused  Emma's  Hand 191 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Preparations '    .        .        .       206 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Battle! 218 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Postscript 231 


ROUGE  ET  NOIR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CAPTAIN   BITTERLIIT. 

WHEN  he  was  asked  to  fill  up  the  last  census- 
papers,  he  wrote  it  all  down  himself,  in  a  little, 
dry  scratch  of  a  hand,  bristling  like  a  stubble-field : 

"  Jean  Pierre  Bitterlin,  of  Luneville ;  60  years  old, 
35  years  of  active  service,  11  campaigns,  2  wounds; 
Captain  in  1834,  Chevalier  in  183G,  retired  in  1847, 
a  Saint  Helena  medal-man." 

His  short,  thick-set  frame  was  stiff  as  buckram  — 
perhaps  more  from  habits  of  commanding  than  even 
from  years.  He  had  never  been  what  the  seamstresses 
call  a  fine-looking  man ;  but  in  1858  he  wanted  a  line 
or  two  of  the  regulation  height.  I  am  rather  inclined 
to  the  opinion  that  his  body  had  sunh  by  degrees  on 
the  marches,  from  putting  one  foot  before  the  other : 
one,  two!  His  feet  were  short  and  his  hands  big. 
His  face  —  always  red,  and  as  full  of  little  wrinkles  as  a 
frill  — had  preserved  an  expression  of  firmness.  •  That 
bold  Roman  nose,  which  cut  it  in  two  as  the  Apen- 
nines divide  Italy,  must  have  broken  some  hearts  in 
1820.  His  moustache  had  lost  all  its  pliability;  in 
2  13 


14  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

fact,  no  Rowland's  Macassar  had  virtue  enough  to  con- 
quer it :  it  might  be  called  a.  tooth-brush  stuck  on  his 
upper  lip.  It  M'as  always  as  black  as  jet  fi'om  Sun- 
day morning  till  Wednesday  evening.  If  it  grizzled  a 
little  towards  the  end  of  the  week,  it  is  because  the  art 
of  the  dyer  has  not  yet  reached  perfection.  As  to 
his  hair,  it  was  quite  another  thing ;  it  had  been  always 
black,  and  the  line  glossy  color  lasted  to  the  day  of 
his  death  —  the  hair-dresser  had  guaranteed  it.  His 
age  was  so  cleverly  concealed  that  it  betrayed  itself 
only  by  a  few  long,  Avhite  hairs  escai)ing  out  of  his 
ears,  and  by  the  puckers  of  a  face  more  corrugated 
than  a  lake  under  the  first  puffs  of  the  morning  breeze. 
His  dress  was  that  of  a  dandy  of  1828  —  a  narrow- 
brimmed  hat,  a  black  stock  nearly  reaching  his  ears,  a 
frock-coat  buttoned  under  the  chin,  wide  pantaloons 
with  great  plaits.  The  gloves  he  had  a  preference  for 
were  of  white  cotton ;  the  red  ribbon  in  his  button- 
hole glowed  splendidly  like  a  pink  in  the  month  of 
June.  Ilis  voice  was  quick,  imperious,  and  of  a  very 
crusty,  surly  tone.  He  drawled  towards  the  middle  of 
his  sentences,  and  stopped  with  a  sudden  jerk  at  the 
end,  as  if  he  was  drilling  his  men.  He  .siid.  How  do 
you  —  DO?  in  the  same  tone  that  he  would  have  said. 
Present  —  arms  !  .His  disposition  was  tiie  most  candid, 
the  most  honest,  the  most  delicate,  but  at  the  same  time 
the  sourest,  the  Grossest,  and  the  grumpiest  in  the 
world. 

The  spirits  of  a  man  of  sixty  are  nearly  always  such 
as  they  have  been  made  by  his  previous  life.  Young 
people  are  just  as  nature  has  formed  tiiem  ;  the  old  are 
fashioned  by  the  hands,  often  rough  and  a\A  kward,  of 


CAPTAIN     ETTTERLIX.  15 

society.  Jean  Pierre  Bitterlin  had  been  the  prettiest  of 
druraraer-boys  and  the  merriest  of  Frenchmen  at  the 
battle  of  Leipsic.  Fortune,  who  treated  him  like  a 
spoiled  child,  had  made  him  a  corporal  at  sixteen,  and 
at  seventeen  a  sergeant.  Like  many  another,  he  had 
dreamed  of  starry  epaulets,  marshals'  batons,  and  per- 
haps something  better.  Tlie  word  "  impossible  "  had 
been  rubbed  out  of  the  army's  dictionary.  A  bold  young 
fellow,  without  birth,  and  hardly  able  to  write  his  name, 
might  aspire  to  anything,  if  opportunity  would  only  give 
him  a  lift.  Bitterlin  had  attracted  attention  from  the  first 
by  his  steadiness,  his  cool  courage,  his  activity,  and  all 
those  other  secondary  qualities  that  are  the  small  change 
of  the  French  soldier.  He  merited,  his  first  epaulet  at 
Waterloo,  but  he  did  not  receive  it  till  nine  years  after- 
wards in  Spain.  In  the  interim  he  had  been  tempted  a 
hundred  times  to  quit  the  service  and  go  plant  his  cab- 
bages at  Luneville;  but  he  never  gave  his  superiors 
any  trouble,  though  discontented  and  a  sergeant. 
Mechanically  and  without  relish  he  continued  in  a  pro- 
fession that  he  had  embraced  with  enthusiasm.  Between 
the  coffee-house,  the  drill,  the  reading  of  the  Constitu- 
tionnel,  and  the  pretty  eyes  of  a  milliner  of  Toulouse,  the 
hours  of  this  discouraged  warrior  sped  along  slowly 
enough.  He  read  over  and  over  again  the  Military  An- 
nual, to  count  the  names  of  all  his  comrades  who  had 
been  passed  over' his  shoulders,  and  such  reading  soured 
his  temper.  Still  some  one  thing  or  another  kept  him 
in  his  regiment,  and  he  followed  his  flag  as  a  dog  fol- 
lows his  master.  In  this  growling  resignation  there  is 
something  too  sublime  for  mere  civilians  to  admire. 
Bitterlin    detested    the    Bourbons;    but  no  one  served 


16  BOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

tlieni  more  faitlifully.  If  lie  did  not  get  himself  killed 
on  their  account  in  1830,  he  came  at  least  very  near  it. 
He  was  carried  to  the  hospital  with  a  piece  of  lead  in 
liis  leg.  When  he  recovered  his  senses,  after  fifteen 
days  of  fever  and  delirium,  he  was  rejoiced  to  hear  that 
the  government  was  changed  a  little.  His  craving  to 
se^  his  family,  that  is  to  say  his  regiment,  hastened  his 
recovery.  He  expected  that  the  time  of  the  great  wars 
wjis  coming  back  again,  and,  like  all  true  soldiers,  he 
dreamed  of  nothing  less  than  the  conflagration  of  Eu- 
rope. But  it  all  ended  in  a  few  fire-works,  and  even 
these  Bitterlin  was  not  ordered  to  extinguish.  He  was 
appointed  captain  by  right  of  seniority,  "  when  the  fool's 
turn  came,"  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  with  a  bitter 
grunt.  His  colonel,  who  encouraged  him  occasionally, 
proved  to  him  clearly  that  he  should  not  despair.  A 
captain  at  thirty-six,  he  still  had  Africa  before  him.  He 
crossed  the  Mediterranean,  took  the  field,  but  caught 
the  dysentery  before  getting  the  first  sight  at  an  enemy. 
He  was  sent  to  Briangon,  in  the  High  Alps,  to  recover. 
Winter  seven  months  long,  and  torrents  in  the  middle 
of  the  street!  There,  to  kill  time,  he  married  a  coffee- 
house-keeper's daughter.  He  was  hardly  married  when 
he  was  ordered  to  start  for  Strasburg  with  the  regiment. 
His  wife  followed  him  on  the  baggage- wagon.  In  1839 
he  became  father  of  a  daughter,  who  was  born  between 
the  three  hundred  and  tenth  and  the  three  hundred  and 
eleventh  mile -stone  on  the  road  from  Strasburer  to 
Paris.  The  child  prospered,  and  the  Captain  began  to 
indulge  the  hope  that  the  pleasures  of  domestic  life 
would  console  him  for  all  his  mischances.  Unfortu- 
nately, his  wife  was  pretty,  and  a  coquette.     Without 


CAPTAIN    BITTERLIN.  17 

heflecting  on  the  consequences,  slie  liked  admiration  and 
sought  it;  and  the  Captain  now  experienced  a  worse 
kind  of  jealousy  than  he  had  known  while  reading  the 
Ililitary  Annual.     He  kept  himself  at  home,  closed  his 
cioors,  and  commenced  growling.     He  could  never  be 
seen  except  on  matters  of  business.     He  began  to  affect 
a  refined  politeness,  as  all  men  do  whose  superior  skill 
in  arms  is  generally  recognized ;  but  he  could  bear  no 
joking.     The   young   captains,    however,  would    have 
their  fun.    He  practised  two  or  three  grains  of  patience 
before  he  burst  out  against  a  comrade  Mdio  had  carried 
the  fun  too  far;  and  he  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  kill 
him.     Nobody  said  he  was  wrong.     Everything    had 
been  done  strictly  en  regie.     However,  he  retired  from 
the  service  at  the  age  of  forty-nine.     His  pension,  his 
inheritance,  and  his  wife's  little  dower,  amounted  in  all 
to   about   five   thousand   francs   ($1000)  a   year,  with 
which  he  came  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  at  ' 
Paris.     He  took  up  his  quarters   in   the  Marais,  not 
far  from  the  Place  Royale,  sent  the  little  girl  off  to  the 
convent-school  at  St.  Denis,  and  shut  himself  up  tete-a- 
tete  with  his  wife.    The  loneliness  killed  Madame  Bitter- 
lin   in   less   than   four  years.     The  angels  themselves 
would  have  grown  weary  of  feeding  the  Captain  in  his 
wilderness. 

The  evening  he  returned  to  his  dwelling,  spattered 
knee-deep  with  the  thick  mud  so  abundant  in  cemeteries, 
he  reflected  an  hour  or  two  on  chance,  on  Providence, 
on  the  prospects  and  final  fate  of  that  two-legged,  feath- 
erless  animal  called  man ;  and  then  he  seriously  proposed 
to  himself  one  of  those  pretty  problems  that  are  only 
finally  resolved  by  a  pull  at  the  trigger.  However,  he 
2*  B 


18  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

did  not  kill  liiniself.     He  had  been  alive  so  loner  that  he' 
ended  by  getting  used  to  it.     His  servant  came  to  tell 
him  dinner  M'as  ready ;  he  sat  down  and  contrived  to 
swallow  a  few  morsels. 

"  Eat,  sir,  eat,"  said  stout  Agatha,  shedding  a  torrent 
of  tears  over  the  mutton  stew.  "  You  must  take  courage 
and  strength,  now  that  there's  only  two  of  us  in  the 
world,  besides  Mademoiselle  at  St.  Denis." 

Stout  Agatha  was  a  mountaineer  of  Dauphiny,  de- 
formed and  lame.  The  coffee-house  keeper  of  Brian9oa 
had  sent  her  to  his  daughter  by  way  of  a  New  Year's 
gift,  as  an  inestimable  family  treasure.  The  poor  crea- 
ture, with  limited  intelligence  but  with  the  heart  of 
a  hero,  rose  at  dawn  in  summer,  with  candle-light 
in  winter,  breakfasted  on  an  early  Mass  and  a  piece 
of  dry  bread,  hurried  to  market  for  provisions,  and 
fought  the  market-women  with  a  spirit  equal  to  their 
own ;  went  after  water  as  soon  as  the  street-fountains  were 
opened,  washed,  ironed,  and  mended  the  family  linen, 
scrubbed  the  red-tiled  jfloors,  polished  the  furniture  as 
bright  as  a  looking-glass,  and  amused  herself  in  her  lei- 
sure moments  by  scouring  her  pots  and  pans  till  they 
shone  like  silver.  Her  whole  thoughts  were  on  the 
housekeeping,  and,  during  the  few  hours  that  she 
snatched  for  sleep,  she  dreamed  regularly  that  the  lather 
was  too  blue,  or  that  an  army  of  cockroaches  was  plun- 
dering the  pantry. 

But  Agatha's  talents  as  well  as  her  virtues  were  all  a 
sealed  book  to  M.  Bitterlin.  He  accepted  her  services 
M'ith  misanthropical  contempt.  In  his  heart  he  thought 
himself  an  exceedingly  generous  felloAV,  because  he  did 
not  turn  out  of  doors  a  creature  so  useless  and  ugly. 


CAPTAIN    EITTERLTlSr.  19 

He  slirugged  his  shoulders  on  every  occasion,  distrust- 
fully wiped  his  glass  though  it  sparkled  like  polished 
crystal,  and  ate  with  the  tips  of  his  teeth.  He  never 
disputed  about  the  household  expenses ;  but  every  time 
he  examined  the  bills,  he  would  say,  with  some  bitterness : 

"  My  good  girl,  I  don't  think  you  rob  me.  But 
when  I  was  lieutenant,  my  board  cost  me  fifty  francs  a 
month,  and  I  fared  better." 

Then  poor  Agatha  would  burst  into  tears,  thank  her 
master  for  the  confidence  he  had  reposed  in  her,  and 
promise  to  be  more  economical  in  future. 

This  unappreciating  master  seldom  kept  himself  at 
home  the  moment  he  no  longer  had  a  wife  to  watch. 
As  soon  as  he  had  made  his  toilet,  and  growled  over  the 
Moniteur  de  VArmee,  he  would  breakfast  at  the  corner 
of  the  table,  take  his  hat  and  gloves,  and  pace  the  streets 
of  Paris  till  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  He  would  often 
stop  in  the  Champs  Elysees  to  look  at  the  bowlers,  and 
if  he  only  had  an  opportunity  to  ridicule  some  awkward 
player,  he  went  away  happy.  Sometimes  he  would  en- 
ter a  fencing-school  in  the  3Iarais,  belonging  to  an  old 
comrade  of  his  regiment,  who  always  received  him  with 
marks  of  the  highest  respect.  He  never  deigned  to 
touch  a  foil  himself,  but  he  was  always  ready  to  prove 
that  the  scholars  and  amateurs  were  miserable  bunglers. 
His  favorite  place  of  resort,  however,  was  the  Champ  de 
liars.  The  sight  of  the  uniforms  gave  him  a  kind  of 
bitter  amusement,  of  which  he  was  never  weary.  The 
fine  movements  gave  him  pleasure,  far  less,  however, 
than  the  blunders.  Every  time  an  officer  made  a  mis- 
take, he  rubbed  his  hands  hard  enough  to  take  the  skin 
off,  and  licked  his  moustache  like  a  goat  licking  a  tender 


20  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

branch.  Every  night  after  dinner  he  went  to  read  the 
papers  in  the  Caf6  of  the  Musketeers,  near  the  Boulevard 
Beaumarchais.  The  waiters  gave  hi  in  the  best  coffee 
and  the  oldest  brandy,  because  he  was  the  most  disagree- 
al?le  and  hardest  to  be  pleased  of  all  their  customers. 
He  gave  advice  to  the  billiard-players,  the  draught- 
players,  and  the  piquet-players,  and  was  not  at  all 
sparing  of  doubtful  compliments.  But  nobody  minded 
him,  for  his  disposition  was  W(;ll  known.  When  invited 
to  take  a  hand,  he  answered  drily,  that  he  never  did 
anything  of  the  kind,  such  were  not  his  principles. 
Strange !  His  coffee-house  acquaintances,  the  only  ones 
he  had  in  Paris,  treated  him  with  a  deference  precisely 
proportioned  to  his  want  of  deference  towards  them- 
selves. So  it  is  all  the  world  over.  The  more  we 
despise  the  crowd,  the  more  it  honors  us;  the  more 
merit  we  arrogate  to  ourselves,  the  more  mankind  is 
disposed  to  give. 

The  Captain's  sour  temper  was  not  much  sweetened 
by  an  ill  turn  done  him  one  day  by  his  old  comrades : 
they  took  Sebastopol  without  him.  The  first  time  the 
Crimean  war  was  talked  about,  he  gave  stout  Agatha  a 
formal  exposition  of  his  views  on  the  situation  of  France. 

"  My  good  girl,"  said  he,  "  of  course  you  know 
nothing  about  these  things,  and  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know 
why  I  talk  to  you  concerning  them.  But  there  are 
moments  when  a  man  would  talk  to  his  boot-jack ! 
France  is  going  to  have  another  tussle  with  Russia. 
That 's  an  old  idea  of  ours ;  I  might  say,  of  mine.  In 
1811,  when  only  thirteen  years  of  age,  I  said:  'We 
must  take  Russia  I'  Russia  knows  me,  Agatha;  I  have 
run  over  Russia  from  one  end  to  the  other.     I  measured 


CAPTAIN    BITTERLTJSr.  21 

sworcls  with  her  at  Moscow.  I  have  spoken  her  language, 
I  don't  forget  it  all  yet:  Niet!  Da!  Karacho!  If  the 
Russians  saw  me  landing"  in  the  Crimea,  there  would  be 
more  than  one  to  cry  out:  'Hello!  there's  that  little 
Bitterlin  again  !  Stand  from  under ! '  This  being  the 
case,  what  will  the  Minister  of  War  do?  Do  you  think 
he  will  send  for  me  ?     Oh  yes,  indeed  !     Of  course  !  " 

No  Frenchman  took  a  deeper  interest  in  the  successes 
and  reverses  of  the  Allied  Troops.  His  old  regiment, 
after  covering  itself  with  glory  at  the  siege  of  Rome, 
had  started  among  the  first  for  the  East.  Bitterlin,  with 
a  profound  sentiment  of  envy,  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  all 
the  brilliant  achievements  of  the  gallant  104th.  He 
passed  Avhole  days  poring  over  maps  of  the  Crimea,  and 
in  running  his  pencil  through  the  fortifications  of  Se- 
bastopol.  Morning,  noon,  and  night,  he  was  lecturing 
the  commanders  of  the  expedition,  in  the  person  of 
Agatha.  Whenever  he  thought  a  general  was  too  dila- 
tory at  a  critical  moment,  he  thrust  him  back  into  the 
reserve,  mounted  his  horse  in  his  place,  slashed  right 
and  left,  and  went  to  bed  Marshal  of  France.  When- 
ever the  tidings  were  bad,  he  walked  through  the  streets 
of  Paris  shrugging  his  shoulders.  Five  or  six  fre- 
quenters of  the  Caf^  of  the  Musketeers  firmly  believed 
that  the  Crimean  war  was  never  to  be  ended,  because 
the  right  men  were  not  there. 

The  day  the  news  came  that  the  Malakoif  was  taken, 
the  Captain's  heart  was  the  scene  of  another  terrible  bat- 
tle. On  one  side  were  ranged  the  glory  of  his  beloved 
old  flag,  the  honor  of  the  French  name,  the  delightful 
thrill  that  runs  through  an  old  soldier,  at  the  far-off 
sound  of  victory;    on    the    other,  the  agony  of  being 


99 


ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 


nothing,  and  having  done  nothing,  at  a  moment  when 
crosses,  promotions,  and  titles  were  showering  like  hail 
on  the  heads  of  the  conquerors.  All  these  contradictory 
sentiments  attacked  him  at  once,  and  with  such  violence 
that  he  actually  shed  tears,  without  well  knowing  him- 
self whether  it  was  through  joy  or  grief.  Stout  Agatha, 
who  did  not  quite  understand  politics,  asked  him  inno- 
cently, if  it  was  from  him  that  they  had  taken  the  Mala- 
kolf,  and  whether,  in  consequence  of  the  loss,  she  should 
be  obliged  to  omit  the  second  dish  at  dimier. 

From  time  to  time,  the  Captain  remembered  that  he 
was  a  father,  and  this  idea,  in  itself  a  consoling  one, 
only  still  more  exSsperated  his  incorrigible  sullenness. 
Paternity  reminded  him  of  marriage,  and  his  marriage 
liad  been  anything  but  a  happy  one.  This  man,  naiTOW 
in  his  views,  always  running  into  extremes,  and  imbued 
with  the  most  exaggerated  ideas  regarding  honor,  still 
continued  to  believe  himself  interested  in  findins:  out 
if  Madame  Bitterlin  had  been  faithful  to  her  marriage 
vows.  An  absurd  doubt,  but  it  awoke  the  Captain  moi'e 
than  once  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  His  jealousy 
had  not  expired  with  his  wife;  it  often  returned  like 
fits  of  periodical  fever.  The  unhappy  man  had  often 
remained  a  quarter  of  an  hour  stand ing^before  his  look- 
ing-glass, examining  his  counteuaixce,  trying  to  find  out 
whether  it  looked  like  that  of  a  deceived  husband.  He 
was  continually  revolving  in  his  sick  brain  all  the  cir- 
cumstances that  had  excited  his  suspicious ;  every  day 
he  opened  court  with  stupid  gravity  over  an  interminable 
case.  When  his  wife's  innocence  seemed  put  beyond  all 
doubt,  he  hurried  off  to  the  cemetery  and  begged  pardon 
of  the  poor  woman  for  all  the  harm  he  had  ever  done 


CAPTAIN    BITTERLIN.  23 

her.  But  if  at  that  moment  even  the  lightest  doubt 
crossed  his  mind,  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  ashes  in  the 
tomb,  and  wished  that  his  wife  woukl  come  to  life  again 
in  order  to  feel  his  vengeance.  He  had  forbidden  the 
stone-cutter  to  engrave  the  regular  words  Good  Wife  in 
the  epitaph :  the  place  remained  vacant  till  further  in- 
formation. 

This  painful  though  groundless  uncertainty  never 
permitted  him  to  enjoy  a  real  paternal  pleasure  in  hig 
intercourse  with  his  daughter.  Although  he  had  not 
the  slightest  shadow  of  a  reason  for  supposing  that 
somebody  else  was  her  father,  he  remarked  with  in- 
creasing displeasure  that  not  one  of  little  Emma's  fea- 
tures would  ever  resemble  his.  Whenever  he  went  to 
St.  Denis  to  see  her,  he  considered  her  extremely  ugly 
in  the  old-fashioned  uniform  of  the  Convent.  He  kissed 
her  coldly  on  the  forehead ;  he  did  not  caress  her  with 
the  fondness  characteristic  of  real  fathers.  On  her  side, 
she  came  to  the  parlor  as  she  went  to  class.  M.  Bitter- 
lin  acted  towards  her  like  a  severe  schoolmaster;  he 
corrected  her  from  motives  of  duty. 

They  passed  the  vacations  together  at  Auteuil.  M. 
Bitterlin,  Agatha,  and  the  little  one  put  themselves  and 
their  trunks  into  a  yellow  omnibus,  and  got  out  again 
before  a  Boarding  Institution,  a  vast  republican  hive, 
composed  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  apartments  and  as 
many  gardens.  The  Bitterlins  occupied  rooms  in  the 
third  story,  which  commanded  a  glimpse  of  the  country. 
Their  garden  was  so  extensive  that  you  could  not  take 
twelve  steps  in  it  in  any  direction.  The  Captain  con- 
sidered such  a  place  an  absurd  humbug  ;  but  neverthe- 
less he  went  there  regularly  year  after  year,  just  for  the 


24  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

pleasure  of  abusing  it.  Seated  on  the  grass-bank  under 
his  only  tree,  he  would  smoke  his  cent-cigar,. chewing 
the  half  of  it,  and  gaze  at  Emma  playing  in  the  alley, 
which  served  as  a  corridor  for  all  the  gardens  of  the 
establishment.  And  he  would  often  ask  himself  what 
there  was  in  common  between  him,  Bitterlin,  Marshal 
of  France  that  ought  to  be,  and  that  little  raw-boned 
girl,  with  the  red  hands,  running  up  and  down  so  wildly, 
and  gesticulating  so  strangely  with  her  feet  and  arras. 

The  period  of  green,  awkward  girlhood  prolonged 
itself  in  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin's  case  far  beyond  the 
usual  limits.  At  full  fifteen  years  she  was  still,  if  not 
actually  ugly,  at  least  perfectly  insignificant,  and  the 
Captain  never  scruj^led  to  say  in  her  presence, 'that  the 
men  were  never  going  to  make  fools  of  themselves  for 
her  beauty.  But  when  she  had  completed  her  education, 
and  returned  for  good  to  the  paternal  roof  (it  was,  if  I 
am  not  mistaken,  at  the  vacation  of  1856),  —  when  she 
had  changed  the  sober  uniform  of  the  Legion  of  Honor 
for  a  pretty  summer  dress  of  a  more  modern  cut,  —  the 
Captain  was  actually  astounded  and  alarmed  at  the 
transformation  that  had  taken  place  in  her  regard.  He 
swore  that  her  beauty  was  indecent,  and  he  made  up  his 
mind  at  once  that  a  new  series  of  tribulations  was  iu 
store  for  his  old  days. 


EMMA.  25 

CHAPTER  II. 

EMMA. 

THE  Captain's  terror,  though  of  course  somewhat 
exaggerated,  was  not  quite  unreasonable.  It  can 
be  very  readily  understood  by  those  to  whom  nature 
has  assigned  the  bootless  part  of  the  dragon  of  the  Hes- 
perides.  When  we  are  guarding  oranges  which  we 
cannot  eat  ourselves,  it  is  only  natural  for  us  to  regret 
that  they  are  so  fine  and  tempting.  A  husband's  case 
is  different :  first,  the  oranges  are  his  own ;  then,  he  can 
eat  them  all  himself,  if  he  be  so  disposed  and  his  teeth 
good  enough.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  dreary  drudg- 
ery that  would  prematurely  wrinkle  the  brow  of  a  father 
or  of  an  elder  brother,  becomes  an  enchanting  pastime 
to  all  young  husbands. 

Captain  Bitterlin,  who  had  imagined  himself  capable 
of  taking  Sebastopol,  entertained  serious  apprehensions 
regarding  his  ability  to  defend  Emma.  It  was  not  by 
any  means  that  the  poor  child  seemed  weak  enough  to 
let  herself  be  captured  by  the  first  assailant,  but  because 
she  was  possessed  of  that  irresistible  seduction  which 
calls  into  play  all  the  cupidity  of  the  aggressive  sex. 
The  guardians  of  museums,  of  libraries,  and  of  all  col- 
lections public  and  private,  will  tell  you  that  there  is 
in  every  gallery  some  picture,  or  book,  or  cast,  whose 
manifest  destiny  it  is  to  be  stolen  some  day  or  other, 
while  all  the  rest  are  perfectly  safe.  Here,  it  is  an  El- 
zevir or  an  Aldus,  just  the  size  for  your  pocket,  and 

bound  so  congenially  that  your  hand   stretches  for  it 
3 


26  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

as  naturally  as  it  would  for  a  ripe  apple.  There,  it  is 
some  little  antique  figure  whose  wicked  beauty  actu- 
ally invites  you  to  steal  it.  Elsewhere,  it  is  a  little 
picture,  a  faultless  gem,  that  not  only  fascinates  dis- 
honest people,  but  tempts  even  a  saint  himself  to  slip  it 
under  his  cloak.  President  De  Brosses  was  not  per- 
haps altogether  a  saint,  but  he  Avas  a  very  good  man, 
and  a  judge  into  the  bargain.  Still  one  day  he  was  very 
near  forgetting  all  his  virtue  in  the  presence  of  a  little 
Correggio,  which  was  ogling  him  in  the  gallery  of  some 
lioman  prince.  Emma  seemed  to  be  marked  out  for 
the  same  fate  as  the  little  Elzevir,  the  little  bronze,  or 
the  little  Correggio.  Correggio  never  painted  anything 
fresher,  more  velvety,  more  savory.  Her  face  was  be- 
dewed with  that  impalpable  down  which  nature  sheds 
on  peaches  and  on  the  wings  of  butterflies :  the  down  of 
youth  and  innocence,  which  the  first  love  efFaces,  and 
which  faded  beauty  tries  in  vain  to  rc])lace  by  all  the 
powders  of  the  drug-store.  Doubly  a  woman  —  for  she 
was  a  blonde  —  under  her  long  brown  eyelashes  she 
half  shaded  two  large  blue  eyes,  joyous  as  a  summer 
sky.  The  dainty  lines  of  her  pretty  mouth,  the  lustre 
of  her  cherry  lips,  the  whiteness  of  her  little  teeth, 
slightly  separated  like  those  of  children,  the  exquisite 
desiern  of  her  two  little  ears,  which  half  lost  themselves 
in  the  golden  shadow  of  her  hair,  all  the  harmonious 
perfections  of  her  countenance,  formed  a  whole  not  ex- 
actly of  angelical,  but  of  most  provoking  virginity.  It 
is  not  thus  that  Sasso  Ferrato  and  Carlo  Dolci  painted 
the  Madonna;  but  it  is  thus  that  all  painters  would 
wish  to  represent  Eve,  and  that  all  men  would  wish  to 
meet  her. 


EMMA.    .  27 

The  Captain's  epithet  had  been  too  coarse  to  express 
the  real  character  of  his  daughter's  beauty.  Nothing  is 
more  diverse  than  the  beauty  of  women,  except  the  im- 
pression that  it  produces  on  men.  There  are  heroic 
beauties  who  inspire  us  with  lofty  thoughts  and  chival- 
rous sentiments ;  melancholy  beauties  that  lull  us  to 
gentle  reverie ;  seraphic  beauties  that  fling  us  into  mys- 
ticism and  lead  us  to  heaven  by  the  steepest  kind  of 
roads;  seductive  beauties  that  jiluuge  us  into  crime 
and  lead.us  quickly  enough  "the  other  way";  homelike 
beauties  that  inspire  us  with  an  uncontrollable  desire  to 
become  heads  of  families  and  city  councillors ;  bacchana- 
lian beauties  that  remind  us  of  balls  and  champagne ; 
pastoral  beauties  that  set  us  a-thinking  about  tending 
sheep  and  drinking  milk.  With  Van  Ostade's  women, 
a  man  would  like  to  be  selling  cloth;  with  those  of 
Teniers,  he  might  resign  himself  even  to  smoking  a 
pipe ;  with  those  of  Rubens,  he  might  bring  himself  to 
regard  with  complacency  the  idea  of  being  the  father 
of  two  or  three  dozen  of  chubby  children  ;  with  those  of 
Vandyke,  he  might  reconcile  himself  to  the  trouble  of 
being  a  king ;  with  those  of  Watteau,  he  would  like  to 
eat  ice-cream  out  of  rosewood  saucers.  But  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Emma  Bitterlin,  as  before  certain  portraits  by 
Titian  and  by  Raphael,  he  would  forget  every  interest, 
every  duty,  every  ambition,  every  consideration,  in  order 
to  think  of  nothing  but  love. 

How  had  the  awkward  girl,  who  used  to  straddle 
about  at  Auteuil  like  a  big  daddy-long-legs,  become  in 
less  than  a  year  the  prettiest  woman  in  Paris  ?  Nature 
keeps  to  herself  with  jealous  care  the  secret  of  such 
metamorphoses.     One  fine  morning  a  young  girl  issues 


28  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

out  of  Iier  cliiklhood,  as  if  out  of  a  shell,  not  a  vestige 
of  which  remains.  All  the  sharp  angles  with  which  the 
little  Emma  had  been  bristling  all  over,  disa|)i)cared  in 
a  few  months.  Her  arms  filled  out,  iier  waist  rounded, 
lier  bust  modelled  itself  as  if  it  had  been  in  a  statuary's 
mould,  her  features  grew  beautiful  and  fell  into  place. 
If  her  hands  continued  red,  it  was  only  to  save  the  prin- 
ciple and  to  maintain  the  color  of  virtue;  nothing  but  a 
little  hasty  whitening  was  wanting  to  make  them  the 
j^rettiest  hands  in  the  world.  The  change  was  so  great 
that  even  her  companions  who  saw  her  every  day  could 
remark  it.  They  experienced  the  same  astonishment 
as  bewilders  the  traveller  who  arrives  at  night  in  a 
strange  country,  when,  next  morning,  the  rising  sun 
discloses  to  his  view  forests,  rocks,  rivers,  and  a  charm- 
ing landscape,  the  existence  of  which  he  had  not  even 
susjieeted  the  evening  before. 

The  girl  soon  found  out  that  she  was  pretty :  the 
wonder  would  be  if  she  was  the  last  to  perceive  such 
things.  There  was  no  looking-glass  so  small  that  she 
could  not  admire  herself  in  it.  In  her  own  mind  she 
compared  herself  to  Cinderella,  and  she  by  no  means 
despaired  of  seeing  some  evening  the  grand  gold  car- 
riage drive  up,  drawn  by  six  mouse-gray  horses.  Why 
not  ?  She  smiled  at  her  neat  little  foot,  thinking  of  the 
fairy  tale.  Her  first  vocation  had  been  that  of  teach- 
ing, the  last  resource  of  women  who  are  unprovided 
with  either  beauty  or  fortune.  Within  the  four  walls 
of  the  Convent  at  St.  Denis  she  had  expected  to  per- 
form her  voyage  of  life.  But  the  Sisters  had  not  much 
trouble  in  combating  this  idea.  She  was  not  long  in 
convincing  herself  that  she  had  a  face  altogether  too 
worldly  for  the  austere  duties  of  instruction. 


EMMA.  29 

Her  father's  reception  surprised  her  a  little :  she  had 
expected  a  regular  domestic  ovation.  Agatha  alone  was 
loud  in  her  admiration  and  told  her  that  she  was  to 
marry  some  king's  son.  Unfortunately  however, 
king's  sons  were  not  likely  to  come  to  visit  her  in  the 
Rue  de  Vosges,  in  the  Ilarais,  and  her  father  did  not 
at  all  seem  disposed  to  take  her  into  society.  He 
had  no  society  to  take  her  into  but  the  Cafe  of  the 
Musketeers.  The  old  fellow,  selfish  and  surly,  had  sur- 
rounded himself  with  a  wall  of  China ;  and  now  when 
he  saw  that  he  had  a  treasure  to  guard,  he  only  thought 
of  fortifying  himself  the  more  strongly.  He  dreaded 
lest  this  little  being  so  seducing,  so  pretty,  so  portable, 
Bhould  become  the  prey  of  some  robber;  the  idea  of 
making  ii  present  of  her  to  some  respectable  man  never 
once  came  into  his  head.  He  had  a  sovereign  contempt 
for  that  policy  of  the  English  and  of  all  prudent  mammas 
which  consists  in  finding  an  outlet  for  their  home  pro- 
ductions. As  greedy  of  his  blood  as  of  his  money,  he 
considered  it  perfectly  natural  to  save  up  his  daughter 
and  his  crowns  for  his  old  days.  His  first  measure  was 
to  leave  Auteuil ;  he  dreaded  the  young  men  of  the 
boarding-house  and  the  liberty  of  country  life.  He 
told  his  daughter  that  he  would  never  let  her  out  of  his 
sight,  and  that  she  was  not  to  go  to  the  window  unless 
in  his  company. 

Emma  took  this  menace  of  her  father's,  and  indeed 
all  his  severities,  in  very  good  part.  Little  birds  are 
quite  comfortable  in  the  cage  as  long  as  they  can't  fly, 
and  we  don't  trouble  ourselves  much  about  liberty  until 
such  time  as  we  know  how  to  employ  it.  She  accepted 
without  a  murmur  all  the  laws  that  the  Captain  thought 


30  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

proper  to  proclaim  in  his  house.  She  let  herself  be  put 
under  lock  and  key,  she  consented  to  see  nobody,  she 
played  the  part  of  the  princess  shut  up  in  the  tower, 
without  once  suspecting  that  at  this  kind  of  game  she 
might  win  the  epaulets  of  an  old  maid.  The  only  thing 
that  troubled  her  was  her  father's  bad  humor.  It  hurt 
her  to  be  surrounded  by  so  morose  a  personage,  and  she 
felt  it  to  be  her  duty  to  tame  him  a  little.  In  fact,  she 
considered  it  a  point  of  honor  to  do  something  of  the 
kind.  Tlie  desire  to  please,  innate  in  all  women,  was 
dominant  in  her,  and  to  such  a  degree,  that  if  even  a 
total  stranger  had  looked  at  her  without  smiling,  she 
would  have  felt  it  as  little  short  of  an  insult.  She  had 
commenced  her  ap])renticeship  in  the  art  of  pleasing  in 
those  days  when  she  had  to  get  her  face  excused ;  and 
after  the  metamorphosis,  she  did  not  understand  why 
she  should  be  looked  at  crossly  by  a  man  who  was 
neither  deaf  nor  blind,  and  who  was  her  own  father  into 
the  bargain.  She  began  then  to  surround  the  Captain 
with  a  net  of  little  attentions  and  caressing  ways  that 
would  have  surely  entrapped  any  one  else.  She  waited 
on  him  continually,  she  fondled  him,  she  anticipated  all 
his  wants;  in  short,  she  exhausted  on  him  alone  all  the 
love  that  a  girl  of  seventeen  expends  as  well  as  she  can, 
in  embracing  little  cats  and  in  kissing  little  birds.  But 
the  more  affectionately  she  treated  the  old  boy,  the  more 
churlish  he  showed  himself.  All  these  filial  blandish- 
ments reminded  the  Captain  of  other  caresses  quite  as 
captivating,  but  of  the  sincerity  of  which  he  was  by  no 
means  convinced.  Emma  resembled  her  mother  even 
in  her  embraces,  though  the  poor  woman  had  never 
given  her  any  lessons.     Every  graceful  gesture,  every 


EMMA.  31 

sprightly  expression  of  the  girl,  woke  up  the  old 
jealousy  of  the  husband  and  the  surly  prudence  of  the 
father.  He  actually  suffered  severely  whenever  he  re- 
cognized in  his  daughter  some  of  those  winning  ways 
that  he  had  so  much  deplored  in  her  mother ;  he  even 
confided  to  stout  Agatha,  who  did  not  understand  a  word 
he  said,  his  serious  apprehensions  of  being  dishonored 
over  again. 

In  his  fits  of  misanthropy  he  would  often  reproach 
the  poor  child  with  her  "  eternal  smile  "  and  her  "  fawn- 
ing ways."  One  evening,  noticing  her  to  be  a  little 
thoughtful  before  dinner,  —  "  Attention  !  "  he  suddenly 
exclaimed  ;  "  you  're  setting  your  cap  at  the  decanter  ! " 
Another  time,  as  she  was  putting  her  arms  around  his 
neck  to  embrace  him,  he  repulsed  her  roughly,  and 
forgot  himself  so  far  as  to  say,  "  You  're  too  light ! 
You  '11  end  badly  !  "  Without  comprehending  the  exact 
meaning  of  these  words,  Emma  felt  the  sensitive  deli- 
cacy of  her  soul  wounded,  and  for  the  first  time  she  re- 
plied Avith  a  spirit  somewhat  mutinous,  "  I  don't  know 
how  I  shall  end,  but  I  do  not  commence  very  well." 

The  length  of  the  days  was  terrible  in  this  way  of 
living,  where  the  company  was  close  without  being  inti- 
mate. They  arose  early  through  habit,. never  reflecting 
that  doing  so  only  gave  them  a  few  hours  more  to  kill. 
Emma  dressed  herself  for  the  whole  day  very  simply, 
but  with  such  exceeding  neatness  that  the  Captain  often 
grumbled  at  it  and  called  it  affectation.  He  made  war 
on  sponges  and  scented  soaps,  asserting  seriously  that 
with  women  cleanliness  is  the  mother  of  all  the  vices. 
After  breakfast  the  father  smoked,  walked  up  and  down 
the  room,  scolded,  opened  and  shut  the  windows,  and 


32  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

ttii^pcd  at  llie  barometer.  Emma  hemmed  a  handker- . 
cliief  or  embroidered  a  collar,  or  sang  a  song  or  two  at 
the  upright  piano,  which  her  mother  had  left  her. 
Sometimes  she  read.  The  Ca])tain  saw  no  harm  in  that, 
and  gave  her  free  use  of  his  library,  which  consisted  of 
the  following  works  ranged  in  the  following  order : 

The  Rural  Retreat,  Dorat,  The  Thirty-Seven  Codes, 
Victories  and  Conquests  of  the  French  Arms,  Voltaire, 
Fouquet's  Edition  ;  The  Works  of  the  AbbS  Raijnal,  Do- 
mestic Medicine,  The  History  of  Napoleon,  by  Norvins  ; 
Tlie  Ruins,  by  Yolney;  and  The  Imitation  of  Christ, 
bound  in.  black  and  bearing  the  letters  of  Madame  Bit- 
terliu's  name. 

Emma  was  neither  a  silly  simpleton  nor  a  George 
Sand,  but  she  had  a  pretty  little  feminine  mind  of  her 
own,  candid,  cheerful,  inquiring,  intelligent,  and  trained 
in  the  best  school  we  have  in  France.  Naturally  enough, 
then,  her  flUher's  books  wearied  her  to  death,  for  not  a 
single  one  of  them  excited  her  curiosity  or  gratified  her 
taste. 

At  four  o'clock  every  evening,  the  military  hour,  the 
Captain  trotted  her  out  as  a  groom  does  his  horses.  He 
took  her  to  the  Place  Roy  ale,  or  to  the  Jar  din  des 
Flantes,  only  seldom  to  the  Boulevard  Beaumarchais. 
On  Sundays  she  was  treated  to  a  little  trip  to  Vincennes, 
or  to  Bievre,  or  to  some  other  tranquil  retreat  where  the 
sight  of  a  pretty  woman  does  not  make  the  promenaders 
turn  about  to  gaze.  Father  and  daughter  always  got 
home  at  six  o'clock  precisely,  and  they  dined  together 
as  they  had  breakfasted.  After  the  dessert,  idleness  and 
weariness  asserted  their  rights,  until  sleep  was  the  con- 
sequence. During  one  of  those  dreary  hours,  Emma 
took  the  courage  to  ask  her  flithcr,  one  evening,  if  he 


EMMA.  33 

would  not  teach  her  some  amusing  game,  or  if  he  was 
never  going  to  take  her  to  the  play?  This  innocent 
question  sounded  in  the  ears  of  the  house-tyrant  like  an 
appeal  to  the  barricades.  An  amusing  game?  Did  she 
know  what  she  meant?  Games  and  gaming,  they  were 
all  the  same  —  all  bad;  the  scourge  of  the  soldier,  the 
curse  of  the  regiments ;  gaming  was  the  source  of  all 
debts,  of  all  crimes  ;  a  model  officer,  as  he  flattered  him- 
self he  had  always  been,  never  played  at  any  game ;  ac- 
cordingly, in  all  his  thirty-five  years  of  service,  he  had 
never  lost  a  cent  in  gambling,  nor  had  incurred  fifteen 
minutes  punishment.  As  for  the  theatre,  he  took  no 
pleasure  in  such  places  himself,  and  he  considered  them 
to  be  dangerous  for  his  daughter.  She  might  meet  some 
young  blood  there  foolish  enough  to  fall  in  love  with 
her,  and  to  tell  her  so,  "  in  which  case,"  added  the  Cap- 
tain, "  I  would  make  no  bones  at  all  about  it.  I  'd  kill 
him  as  mercilessly  as  I'd  sjoit  a  lark  —  always,  how- 
ever, strictly  complying  with  the  established  codes  of 
honor." 

It  was  by  indulging  in  amplifications  of  this  style 
that  the  Captain  undertook  to  train  the  mind  and  heart 
of  his  daughter  during  the  weary  hours  that  crawled 
along  so  slowly  from  after  dinner  till  bed-time.  In 
consequence,  the  poor  child  saw  with  terror  the  approach 
of  the  moment  for  removing  the  table-cloth,  and  when- 
ever there  were  any  nuts  for  dessert,  she  remained  pick- 
ing at  them  as  long  as  possible.  One  evening,  when 
stout  Agatha  came  to  bid  them  good-night,  Emma  said 
to  her  in  a  whisper,  "  I  dare  not  complain,  but  I  'm  tired 
to  death.     Cry  over  me  a  little  in  your  room." 

Towards  the  middle  of  December,  the  Captain  received 

C 


34  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

a  letter  addressed  to  liis  daughter.     He  opened    it  at 
once  and  read  as  follows : 

"My  DEAR  LITTLE  Desire-to-Please :  —  Here 
I  am  back  from  the  country;  Henrietta  ditto,  Julia  and 
Caroline  ditto,  ditto.  The  gentle  Madeline  informs  me 
that  she  will  be  ditto  to-morrow.  With  you  —  and 
without  you  nothing  can  be  good  —  the  number  of  the 
immortal  six  will  be  complete.  Mamma  has  decided 
that  the  first  reunion  of  the  Inseparables  is  to  take  place 
at  our  house.  What  a  glorious  day  !  The  idea  makes 
me  leap  with  joy.  Don't  you  blame  anything  else  for 
the  big  blot  that  has  just  fallen  right  in  the  centre  of 
my  letter.  It  is  to  be  Monday  morning.  Ask  the 
Papa- Wolf  to  have  you  taken  to  the  Rue  St.  Arnaud, 
No.  4,  before  daybreak ;  we  shall  send  you  back  safe  to 
your  den  in  the  evening.  "SV^e  shall  dance,  perhaps,  but 
certainly  we  shall  chat  and  gabble,  and  of  course  laugh 
like  crazy  people,  and  that 's  the  best  part  of  it.  AVe 
are  talking  about  making  arrangements  for  our  winter 
amusements  on  a  grand  scale,  as  our  poor  dear  old  Pro- 
fessor used  to  say.  I  hope  we  shall  see  each  other  every 
day  till  we  are  married,  and  afterwards  too  for  that  mat- 
ter. You  see  it  is  the  regular  plan  of  the  campaign  we 
have  to  sketch  out;  but  my  brother  the  soldier, just  ar- 
rived on  leave  of  absence,  will  aid  us  with  his  invalu- 
able experience.  He  won't  believe  that  you  are  a  hun- 
dred times  prettier  than  I ;  these  Lieutenants  of  the  En- 
gineers are  incredulous  to  a  degree  that  is  positively 
siiocking. .  Monday!  Monday!  Monday!  Another 
blot !  A  regular  pie  this  time.  No  matter.  The  pie- 
•nyxker  embraces  you  with  all  her  heart. 

"  Louise  de  Marannes." 


E  M  M  A  .  35 

The  Captain,  who  had  once  been  a  young  man,  and 
an  amiable  one  too,  answered  Emma's  companion  as  a 
dog  would  a  rabbit. 

"  Mademoiselle:  —  I  have  received  the  letter  which 
you  have  done  me  the  honor  to  address  to  my  daughter, 
and  beg  to  state  in  reply  that,  though  much  honored  by 
the  invitation  therein  included,  I  think  I  neither  over- 
step my  rights  nor  fall  short  of  my  duties  when  I  inform 
you  that  Emma  never  goes  to  any  house  where  her  father 
does  not  likewise  go,  and  that  her  father  finds  himself 
much  more  comfortable  at  his  own  house  than  anywhere 
else.  She  eats  and  laughs  at  home  just  as  much  as  her 
health  requires,  and  never  bestows  a  thought  on  those 
(Questions  regarding  marriage,  from  the  discussion  of 
which  no  young  lady  can  keep  herself  too  much  aloof, 
however  little  regard  she  may  have  for  her  reputation. 
In  short,  Captain  Bitterlin's  daughter  is  not  in  the  habit 
of  being  reviewed  by  lieutenants,  even  if  they  do  have 
the  advantage  of  belonging  to  the  Engineers. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be.  Mademoiselle,  your  very 
humble,  most  devoted,  and  obedient  servant." 

A  few  days  after,  Emma  said  to  her  father : 

"  I  am  surprised  that  Louise  does  not  write  to  me ; 
she  must  certainly  have  returned  from  the  country." 

The  Captain  replied  with  a  frown : 

"  She  has  written  to  you." 

"Ah ! " 

"  Yes,  all  kinds  of  trash.  But  I  have  answered  her 
as  she  ought  to  be  answered,  and  I'll  warrant  you  shall 
not  hear  from  her  again  in  a  hurry." 


36  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

In  fact,  that  was  the  end  of  the  correspondence ;  and 
three  or  four  other  freaks  of  the  Captain  soon  isolated 
his  daughter  as  perfectly  as  if  she  had  never  set  her 
foot  in  a  board in'g-school. 

So  she  lived  for  eighteen  months  in  this  overwhelm- 
ing loneliness,  tcte-a-tete  with  the  most  crossgraiued  of 
mortals.  Her  health,  however,  did  not  suffer,  and  even 
her  temper  experienced  no  ill  effects  from  the  ordeal. 
Oh  !  blessed  privilege  of  youth !  It  stands  the  rudest 
shocks  of  life  with  impunity.  Just  as  children  knock 
their  heads  against  all  the  sharp  corners  of  the  furniture 
and  never  bear  away  a  scar  to  tell  it. 

The  only  friend  she  had  now  left  was  stout  Agatha, 
whose  resources,  however,  out  of  her  kitchen,  were 
rather  limited.  This  poor  creature  had  a  religious  ven-, 
eration  for  her  young  mistress's  beauty.  In  her  she 
found  points  of  resemblance  with  all  the  beautifully 
colored  saintly  virgins  that  she  kept  between  the  leaves 
of  her  prayer-book.  Whenever  she  was  permitted  to 
escort  Emma  to  high  Mass  on  Sundays,  or  on  some 
little  shopping  matter  two  or  three  steps  from  the 
house,  she  felt  so  proud  that  she  grew  a  foot  taller.  She 
said  to  her,  one  day  as  they  were  coming  out  of  church : 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  when  you  get  married. 
The  old  gentleman  won't  allow  me  to  leave  him,  and  I 
can't  live  away  from  you.  If  I  could  only  make  two 
halves  of  myself!" 

"  Do  you  think,  then,  that  Papa  has  any  notion  of 
getting  me  married?"  asked  Emma. 

"Do  I?  Of  course  he  has.  Girls  are  made  for 
nothing  else,  unless  when  one  happens  to  be  a  scare-crow 
like  myself." 


EMMA.  37 

"  Perhaps  Louise  is  married  by  this  time." 

"Quite  possible.  To-day  one,  to-morrow  another. 
Not  later  than  yesterday,  seven  couple  were  married  at 
St.  Paul's." 

"  But  Papa  don't  know  any  one  in  Paris." 

"  That  is  likely  enough,!  grant,  still  I  guess  he  has 
his  ideas.  Ask  him,  if  you  want  to  know ;  he  won't 
eat  you." 

"  Oh !  Agatha,  I  would  n't  do  such  a  thing  for  the 
world  !     Besides,  I  'm  in  no  hurry.     Men  are  so  cross." 

"Not  all  of  them." 

The  same  day,  on  removmg  the  table-cloth,  Agatha 
put  the  question  to  her  master  point-blank. 

"  Is  n't  it  true,  sir,  that  you  're  sometimes  thinking 
of  getting  our  young  lady  married  ?  " 

The  Captain's  answer  was  so  rude  that  I  shall  not 
dare  to  write  it  down.  If  he  did  not  beat  the  poor 
creature  black  and  blue,  it  was  simply  because  he  was 
able  to  find  in  the  vocabulary  of  the  French  language 
a  litany  of  oaths  that  were  just  as  good  as  so  many 
blows.  His  conclusion  was  that  all  women  were  shame- 
less, all  servants  were  go-betweens,  all  men  were  rascals 
without  law  or  honor,  and  that  he  had  not  raised  his 
daughter  with  so  much  care  for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
her  away  on  any  scoundrel  of  the  kind. 

This  profession  of  faith  Avas  made  in  so  loud  a  voice 
that  all  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  house,  the  porter 
included,  went  to  bed  certain  that  Mademoiselle  Bit- 
terlin  should  die  an  old  maid. 

From  that  day,  poor  Agatha  did  her  best  to  prove  to 

her  young  mistress  the  superiority  of  single  blessedness. 

"  Had  n't  she  cveiy thing  in  the  world  that  she  wanted? 
4t 


38  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

A  goofl  father,  a  devoted  servant,  a  lovely  little  room 
with  blue  curtains,  a  comfortable  bed  nicely  tucked  in 
every  night,  and  every  day  the  best  cofiee  in  Paris,  and 
permission  to  play  on  the  piano  as  long  as  she  liked? 
It  was  a  regular  paradise  on  earth,  and  another  man  in 
the  family  would  only  be  an  incumbrance.  And  what 
great  things  were  men,  after  all  ?  She  herself,  Agatha, 
had  jogged  her  way  through  the  world  for  forty  years 
without  as  much  as  ever  touching  a  man's  arm,  and  she 
felt  none  the  worse  for  it,  quite  the  contrary ! " 

To  these  arguments  Emma  had  no  reply  to  make,  for 
she  was  not  in  love. 


MEO.  39 

CHAPTER  HI. 

MEO. 

THE  Marais  is  a  peaceable  quarter  of  Paris,  but  it 
would  be  much  more  so  if  it  had  fewer  boardiiio;- 
schools.  Quiet  people,  who  have  removed  out  towards 
the  Rue  St.  Antoine  in  search  of  repose,  are  liable  to 
encounter  four  times  a  day  some  one  or  other  of  those 
noisy  caravans  of  students  that  are  on  their  way  to  the 
Charlemagne  Lyceum.  These  unlicked  youths  are  the 
hope  of  their  country  and  the  terror  of  their  neighbor- 
hood. It  would  not  do  to  tell  this  to  their  parents. 
Their  mothers  and  sisters  would  never  believe  that  a 
boy  who  is  gentle  and  jjolite  at  home  can  become  coarse 
and  impertinent  among  his  comrades.  Nevertheless, 
every  bourgeois  offering  the  slightest  opportunity  for  a 
remark  or  a  laugh,  every  man  with  a  peculiar  nose,  and 
all  women  without  exception,  go  a  mile  regularly  out 
of  their  way  to  avoid  having  their  ears  saluted  with 
boarding-school  slang. 

Agatha  forgot  this  important  precaution,  one  morn- 
ing that  she  had  gone  out  with  Emma.  She  had  taken 
her  to  the  famous  store  called  "  The  Ladies'  Paradise," 
Hue  St.  Antoine,  to  buy  a  dress  for  summer.  On  her 
way  back,  she  saw  a  crowd  of  students  hastening  as 
fast  as  they  could  towards  the  Lyceum.  To  avoid 
meeting  them,  she  turned  thoughtlessly  into  the  first 
street,  and  there  she  found  herself  caught  between  the 
endless  ranks  of  two  other  schools,  as  "if  between  two 
parallel  walls.     The  poor  girls  got  along  pretty  well  till 


40  R  O  U  G  E     E  T     X  O  I  K  . 

about  half-way ;  the  little  boys,  who  led  the  march, 
jDerhaps  made  some  observations  about  Emma's  nursy. 
But  before  they  reached  No.  4,  near  the  end  of  the 
street,  they  found  themselves  right  in  the  midst  of  a 
crowd  of  the  grown-up  students ;  and  the  young  logi- 
cians, and  the  rhetoricians,  reinforced  by  a  squad  of  the 
mathematicians,  immediately  began  to  assail  them  with 
their  Avell-known  refined  and  original  gallantries. 

"  Mademoiselle,  had  n't  I  the  honor  of  dancing  with 
you  at  the  Closerie  des  Lilas  f  '^ 

"  Mademoiselle,  only  I  'm  afraid  of  compromising 
you,  I  'd  offer  you  a  cent's  worth  of  gingerbread." 

"  Mademoiselle,  do  accept  my  arm  as  far  as  the  board- 
ing-school." 

"Mademoiselle,  ask  the  Prefect  for  my  hand;  he 
won't  refuse  you." 

"Mademoiselle,  come  see  me  in  the  parlor  on  Thurs- 
day ;  my  name  is  Samajou." 

"That  ain't  true,  Mademoiselle;  his  name  is  Ca- 
boche ! " 

I  can't  tell  what  in  the  world  the  Prefects  were  think- 
ing of  at  the  time.  One  of  them,  I  know,  was  watching 
the  early  swallows,  and  the  other  was  eying  the  counter 
of  a  neighboring  store;  whilst  poor  Emma,  red  as  a 
cherry,  struggled  with  her  elbows  to  cut  her  way 
throuo;h  the  enemy,  and  Ag;atha's  fists  fell  hot  and 
heavy  among  the  crowd. 

"  I  know  who  you  arc,  fair  mask,"  said  a  metaphy- 
sician to  the  servant.  "  You  are  Vulcan  disguised  as  a 
woman  to  accompany  Venus  to  Paris." 

Another  repeated  some  passage  from  Rabelais,  which, 
from  the  boisterous  applause  of  the  crowd,  must  have 
been  of  brilliant  wit  and  exceedingly  apropos. 


MEO.  41 

But  all  at  once  a  shower  of  cuffs  and  blows,  that 
seemed  to  fall  from  heaven,  scattered  the  assailants  and 
set  the  prisoners  at  liberty.  Emma,  exhausted  with 
fatigue  and  terror,  and  more  dead  than  alive,  felt  her- 
self suddenly  cari'ied,  rather  than  supported,  by  a  tall 
young  man  wdth  a  black  beard.  She  heard  confusedly 
around  her  a  deafening  chorus  of  angry  exclamations : 
"  Oh  !  Ah  !  Big  coward  !  Disgusting  animal !  Cursed 
pig !  "  She  saw  a  cascade  of  books  falling  on  the  street; 
then  her  eyes  closed  and  she  saw  no  more. 

On  coming  to  her  senses  she  found  herself  in  a  strange 
room.  Agatha  was  holding  a  smelling-bottle  to  her 
nose ;  and  a  young  man,  beautiful  as  the  day,  or  rather 
as  the  night,  was  kneeling  before  her  and  striking  her 
hands.  Her  eyes  wandered  over  the  four  walls  of  the 
room,  and  she  saw  herself  surrounded  by  ever  so  many 
fine  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  splendid  gilt  frames. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  said  she  at  last. 

Her  deliverer  replied,  in  a  soft,  grave  voice,  with  a 
foreign  accent : 

"  In  my  room.  Mademoiselle ;  excuse  the  liberty  of 
my  conduct  and  the  poverty  of  my  abode." 

Perceiving  that  her  dress  was  slightly  disordered,  she 
sprang  up  quickly,  with  the  idea  of  arranging  it  in  the 
next  room.     The  young  man  guessed  her  intention. 

"  This  is  the  only  chamber  I  have,"  said  he,  "  and  it 
is  entirely  at  your  service.  I  am  only  too  happy  if  you 
condescend  to  consider  it  your  own  for  a  moment.  It 
is  on  the  ground  floor,  so  I  can  easily  wait  your  con- 
venience in  the  yard  outside." 

He  disappeared ;  and  Emma  immediately  threw  her- 
self on  Agatha's  neck. 
4* 


42  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"What  an  adventure!"  she  exclaimed;  "only  I 
hope  Papa  will  never  hear  of  it!"  She  looked  ground 
for  a  looking-glass  to  arrange  her  hair  in,  but  could  find 
nothing  except  a  little  one  about  the  size  of  her  hand. 

"  Our  friend  is  no  dandy,"  she  observed. 

"  ]\Iy  own  f)pinion  is  that  he 's  not  very  rich,"  replied 
Agatha,  i)ointing  at  the  straw-bottom  chairs,  the  un- 
painted  deal-table,  and  the  boarding-school  bed.  "  The 
whole  room  does  not  contain  two  hundred  franes'  worth 
of  furniture,  except  the  pictures  which  once  must  have 
cost  a  nice  penny.  But  now  that  you  're  through,  w^e 
can  call  him  in."  She  opened  the  door  and  called  out, 
"Come  in,  young  gentleman;  we're  finished." 

The  stranger  was  a  fine  specimen  of  the  Italian  type  in 
all  its  beauty  and  all  its  strength.  He  was,  however, 
no  mere  stripling,  but  a  man  of  full  thirty  years  well 
counted,  tall,  dark-complexioned,  brawny-shouldered ; 
his  face  radiant  with  health  and  vigor.  His  eyes,  his 
teeth,  his  well-polished  nails,  and  some  little  jewelry  that 
he  wore,  formed  so  many  luminous  points  to  dazzle  and 
charm  a  girl  of  Emma's  age.  The  elegance  of  his  dress, 
like  the  beauty  of  his  pictures,  seemed  altogether  incom- 
patible with  the  modesty  of  his  furniture ;  nor  did  his 
distinguished  manners  and  refined  language  form  a  less 
violent  contrast  with  this  poor  room  of  sixty  dollars  a 
year,  situated  on  the  ground  floor  and  facing  the  street, 
like  a  porter's  lodge. 

He  asked  his  proteg(^es  If  they  wanted  anything. 
"  Excuse  us,"  said  stout  Agatha,  "  but  we  want  to  make 
off  right  away,  before  master  hears  of  our  doings. 
Emma,  thank  the  young  man;  we  are  very  much 
oblig-ed  to  him  indeed." 


M  E  o .  43 

"  I  am  more  than  paid,"  he  replied  with  a  smile,  "  so 
let  us  hear  no  more  about  a  service  which  I  am  almost 
ashamed  of  having  rendered.  I  wish  I  had  killed 
somebody,  if  it  w^ould  only  make  me  agreeable  to 
Mademoiselle ! " 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry  for  it/'  said  Emma,  stand- 
ing in  the  doorway,  "  whereas  at  present  I  depart  very 
happy  to  have  met  you." 

He  escorted  her  to  the  street  with  a  multitude  of 
bows  by  no  means  ungraceful,  and  at  the  moment  of 
bidding  her  adieu,  as  the  young  girl  was  repeating  her 
thanks  for  the  last  time,  he  looked  at  her  sadly,  and 
said : 

"  Perhaps  this  is  a  great  misfortune  for  me ;  for  I  am 
no  longer  in  a  position  to  obtain  your  hand,  and  I  feel 
that  I  shall  love  you  for  the  rest  of  my  life." 

Emma  started  violently  at  hearing  this  abrupt  decla- 
ration let  off  without  warning,  point-blank  on  the  side- 
walk. 

"  Don't  do  anything  of  the  kind,  I  entreat  you,"  she 
replied,  hurrying  away  ;  "  it  would  be  as  much  as  your 
life  is  worth  !  " 

The  Italian  pursued  her  with  his  eyes  as  far  as  the 
end  of  the  street,  but  without  an  idea  of  following  her. 
He  remained  for  some  time  at  the  door,  plunged  in 
thought,  and  bareheaded,  like  a  man  who  cares  very 
little  about  what  lookers-on  may  say.  All  at  once  re- 
membering that  he  neither  knew  Emma's  name  nor 
address,  he  started  after  her,  but  it  was  too  late. 

Returning  back  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he  found  his 
room  still  wide  open,  and  sitting  down  immediately,  he 
wrote  three  letters,  which  I  wish  to  present  here  because 


4-1  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

tliev  give  a  most  fuitliful  description  of  the  state  of  his 
feelings.  In  the  translation,  permit  me  to  preserve  as 
much  of  all  the  Italian  simplicity  as  I  can. 

"To  THE   Noble   Count   Marsoni,  at  his  Palace, 
Bologna. 

"  ]\IosT  Esteemed  Friend  :  —  To  your  last  very 
affectionate  letter  I  have  not  written  a  line  in  reply, 
because  I  had  nothing  to  communicate.  I  have  been 
vegetating  rather  than  living,  and  nobody  writes  the 
liistory  of  a  plant.  But  to-day,  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  I  feel  myself  to  be  a  man,  for  it  is  to-day  that  I 
have  begun  to  love.  Yes,  I  'ra  in  love !  The  great 
say  is  said :  you  may  reveal  it  to  all  your  friends,  to 
the  entire  universe,  to  Heaven  itself —  I  only  wish  it 
would  go  so  far.  That  fellow  Meo,  colder  though  less 
virtuous  than  Hippolytus,  that  same  Meo,  whom  you 
used  to  accuse  of  having  a  heart  as  frdzen  as  an  Eng- 
lishman's, is  now  burning  with  all  the  fires  of  love. 
He  has  at  last  experienced  the  violent  commotion  which 
upsets  the  most  deep-rooted  ideas  and  the  most  unbend- 
ing resolutions.  Shall  I  draw  you  a  portrait  of  her 
whom  I  love  ?  No.  Go  look  at  the  sun  the  first  time 
he  rises  among  the  fleecy  clouds  of  morning,  and  be 
persuaded  that  in  comparison  with  her  he  is  far  from 
brilliant.  Don't  ask  me  if  she  is  rich  and  noble.  I 
believe  she  belongs  to  the  middle  class  —  the  most  in- 
telligent, the  most  honorable,  and  really  the  first  in  this 
country.  ]3nt  were  she  even  the  daughter  of  a  beggar, 
you  know  that  obstacles  of  such  a  nature  should  never 
stand  in  our  way  when  we  are  in  love.  But  there  are 
others  that  I  foresee,  which  she  herself  has  warned  me 


MEO.  45 

of.  '  It  would  cost  you  your  life/  said  she.  Perhaps 
it  is  some  rival !  Let  him  come !  I  will  teach  him 
what  my  friends  and  enemies  know  equally  well, 
namely,  that  fire  and  sword  are  only  playthings  to  the 
sons  of  the  Plouse  of  Miranda.  But  this  name,  which 
I  have  no  longer  the  right  to  bear,  recalls  me  to  busi- 
ness matters  (I  won't  say  serious  business  matters,  for 
there  is  nothing  more  serious  than  love),  to  tiresome 
business  matters.  Send  me  back  the  thousand  crowns 
which  I  have  been  remitting  you,  a  penny  at  a  time, 
during  the  last  five  years,  and  which,  together  with  my 
future  savings,  were  to  be  employed  in  buying  back  the 
lands  and  title  of  Miranda.  This  money  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  me  just  now,  for  of  course  you  foresee  that 
Meo  in  love  is  no  longer  going  to  degrade  himself  by 
working.  Add  to  it  as  much  as  you  can  of  your  own, 
without  forgetting,  however,  that  I  may  never  be  per- 
haps in  a  condition  to  pay  you  back  a  cent.  In  short, 
aid  me  to  be  happy;  that  is  all  to  which  henceforth 
aspires, 

"  Your  most  faithful  and  devoted  friend, 

Bartolomeo  Naeni, 
who  is  not  in  a  fair  way  of  ever  becoming  again 

The  Count  of  Miranda." 

The  next  letter  was  addressed  to  M.  Silivergo,  Direc- 
tor of  the  Franco-Italian  printing-house  at  Paris. 

"  Most  Eespected  Sir  :  —  I  should  be  the  most  ub- 
grateful  and  the  vilest  of  men  if  I  could  ever  forget  the 
generous  readiness  with  which  you  supplied  me  with 
the  means  of  existence  that  day  when,  an  exile  and  with- 


46  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

out  resources,  I  knocked  at  your  door  for  the  first  time. 
By  giv'ing  me,  in  spite  of  my  acknowledged  inexperi- 
ence, the  very  honorable  and  sufficiently  lucrative  post 
of  proofreader,  you  literally  put  bread  into  my  mouth. 
Be  assured,  then,  my  very  dear  sir,  that  if  I  leave  you 
to-day,  without  warning  and  without  preparation,  now 
that  my  services  have  become  somewhat  valuable  to  you, 
it  is  not  through  a  cowardly  desire  to  avoid  paying  a 
debt  of  gratitude,  but  rather  because  I  am  no  longer 
master  of  myself,  a  force  superior  to  my  will  having 
assumed  an  absolute  sway  over  my  soul.  Of  this  irre- 
sistible force  need  I  mention  the  name?  No  one  has 
ever  arrived  at  your  age,  my  dear  and  excellent  sir, 
Avithout  experiencing  at  least  once  all  the  violence  of 
love.  Ah !  if  I  could  only  show  you  the  divine  little 
liand  which  I  pressed  in  mine  hardly  an  hour  ago,  you 
would  be  the  first  to  encourage  me  in  my  desertion  of 
work  and  in  my  resolution  to  give  up  everything  for  my 
passion.  I  am  aware  that  I  leave  the  printing-office 
greatly  embarrassed  by  my  departure,  and  that,  occur- 
ring as  it  does  at  a  moment  when  you  are  overcrowded 
with  work,  my  absence  will  cost  you  some  money  ;  but 
can  money  be  Aveighed  in  the  balance  against  happiness  ? 
Put  yourself  in  the  place  of  a  man  who  has  never  been 
in  love  before,  and  who  is  now  really  in  love  for  the 
first  time  of  his  life.  How  could  he  apply  himself  se- 
riously to  anything  but  his  love  ? 

"  Accept,  then,  my  dear  sir,  my  resignation  of  the 
post  which  you  have  been  so  kind  as  to  confer  upon 
me,  and  believe  in  the  eternal  gratitude  of  your  much 
devoted  B.  Naeni." 


MEO.  47 

He  wrote  these  two  letters  without  hesitating,  or  seek- 
ing for  a  Avord,  letting  his  pen  run  freely  under  the  sen- 
timent of  the  moment ;  nor  was  he  a  jot  more  embar- 
rassed while  scribbling  off  the  following  curiosity  : 

"  To  THE  Illustrissima  Signora  Aurelia,  Italian 
Opera,  Paris. 

"Dearest  Aurelia  :  —  Do  you  remember  tcllino; 
me  often  that  I  was  colder  than  ice,  and  that  I  knew 
nothing  at  all  about  love?  Still  I  fancied  I  was  in  love 
with  you,  and  suffered  so  much  at  seeing  you  incredu- 
lous, that  to  convince  you  I  got  by  heart  all  the  most 
violent  expressions  ever  used  by  the  poets  for  the  pur- 
pose of  painting  the  passion.  Now  at  last  I  feel  that 
you  Avere  right,  and  your,  reproaches  just,  for  I  have 
just  experienced  a  new  and  strange  sensation,  the  like 
of  which,  in  all  the  previous  course  of  my  life,  I  never 
so  much  as  guessed  at.  I  am  burning  and  freezing  at 
the  same  time ;  my  heart  beats  furiously,  and  then  of  a 
sudden  seems  to  lose  all  movement.  I  feel  myself  at 
once  as  bold  as  a  lion  and  as  timid  as  a  lamb ;  in  short, 
I  'm  another  man  altogether.  You  could  easily  under- 
stand my  madness  if  you  had  only  seen  its  cause.  How 
beautiful  she  is  !  What  heavenly  eyes  !  What  an  en- 
chanting voice !  Her  whole  person  exhales,  as  it  were, 
innocence  and  candor.  She  is  an  anMl.  From  this 
moment  my  life  is  in  her  hands,  for  if  I  do  not  succeed 
in  marrying  her,  I  will  quit  this  world  at  once,  rather 
than  see  her  wedded  to  another.  Thus  I  am  at  the  same 
time  the  happiest  and  the  most  miserable  of  men.  Sliall 
I  not  go  talk  to  you  about  my  pleasures  and  my  suffer- 
ings ?   Why  should  not  a  good  friendship  exist  between 


48  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

ns?  If  you  really  love  me,  as  you  say  you  do,  and  as 
I  firmly  believe,  you  will  interest  yourself  in  a.  matter 
M'hich  has  become  the  only  and  final  aim  of  all  my  as[)i- 
rations.  I  will  speak  to  you  about  her;  you  will  con- 
sole me  in  my  troubles;  you  will  counsel  me  in  my 
dangers ;  you  will  even  aid  me  if  aid  be  necessary.  It 
is  a  part  worthy  of  such  a  heart  as  yours.  In  return, 
rely  forever  on  the  sincere  friendship  and  eternal  devo- 
tion of  yours  most  affectionately,  Meo." 

Tie  mIio  thus  laid  bare  his  soul  with  the  simple  ego- 
tism and  unthinking  sincerity  of  a  child,  was  one  of 
the  boldest  and  most  distinguished  men  of  young  Italy. 
Bartoloraeo,  or  more  familiarly  Meo,  Narni,  citizen  of 
the  noble  city  of  Bologna,  was  the  last  scion  of  a  family 
as  old  as  the  Caetani  or  the  Pepoli.  In  the  grand  hall 
of  his  old  palace,  Annibal  Caracci  has  painted  the  three 
Kings  of  the  East  prostrated  before  the  arms  of  -the 
Mirandas  (a  golden  star  on  an  azure  field),  with  this 
heroic  device  —  Miranda  JReglbus.  The  inconie  of  this 
illustrious  house  amounted,  even  in  1850,  to  seven  or 
eight  thousand  dollars  a  year,  and  Meo,  young,  brilliant, 
edut;ated  in  one  of  the  best  schools  in  Piedmont,  cut  a 
great  figure  in  the  eyes  of  his  fellow-citizens.  His  dis- 
tinguished name,  his  generous  disposition,  the  spirit 
with  which  he  expressed  the  fashionable  ideas  of  the 
time,  all  marked  him  out,  in  spite  of  his  extreme  youth, 
for  the  suffrages  of  the  Bolognese.  He  was  elected 
member  of  that  Assembly  in  Rome,  which  Prime 
Minister  Rossi,  to  his  own  misfortune,  had  convoked. 
He  was  also  made  a  Deputy  under  the  "  Roman  Re- 
public," but  the  honor  of  representing  the  people  cost 


MEO.  49 

him  all  his  property.  However,  he  ruined  himself,  hon- 
orably enough,  in  the  ancient  Roman  style,  by  distribut- 
ing bread  and  shoes  among  the  people.  The  general 
misery  was  great :  the  strangers,  who  enable  the  poorer 
classes  in  Rome  to  exist,  ran  out  of  Italy  as  out  of  a 
conflagration ;  money  was  so  scarce  that  the  government 
issued  coins  worth  about  half  a  cent  each  and  called  them 
eight-cent  pieces.  Poor  Meo's  eight  thousand  dollars 
were  not  a  mouthful  to  the  hungry  people.  This  generous 
freak,  of  course,  rendered  him  odious  to  the  monarchical 
party,  suspected  by  the  Republicans,  ridiculous  in  the 
eyes  of  many,  and  dear  to  some  few  poor  wretches. 
But  he  had  followed  his  fancy,  which  is  much  for  an 
Italian.  When  the  French  appeared  before  Rome,  he 
mounted  the  tribune  and  proved  very  eloquently  that 
resistance  was  impossible ;  then,  his  proposal  being  re- 
jected, he  fought  like  a  man  who  has  not  the  last  cent 
to  lose.  The  city  being  taken,  he  was  accused  before 
the  French  general  as  a  plunderer  of  palaces  and 
churches.  He  had  been  neither  the  one  nor  the  other, 
but  on  this  charge  he  was  led  before  the  council  of  war. 
Seated  on  the  bench  of  the  accused,  he  forgot  that  he 
was  on  his  trial,  and  made  a  fine  speech  on  the  future  of 
Italy.  When  asked  for  his  witnesses,  "  I  want  none," 
said  he ;  "  those  on  the  other  side  will  do."  The  officers 
honorably  acquitted  the  young  madman,  and  could  not 
help  admiring  his  courage,  candor,  and  loyalty. 

However,  as  he  had  made  himself  too  remarkable  to 
be  included  in  the  general  amnesty,  he  was  obliged  to 
expatriate  himself  as  soon  as  he  had  settled  his  affairs. 
The  latter  operation  did  not  require  a  very  long  time. 
His  creditors  seized  on  everything  he  had  in  the  world. 


50  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

A  corn-speculator,  named  Giacomo  Filippo,  had  the  lands 
and  the  title  of  Miranda  assigned  him  for  eighty,  thou- 
sand francs.  For  this  last  lot  alone  did  our  madcap 
bethink  himself  of  stipulating  for  the  right  of  redemp- 
tion ;  not  because  the  land  was  worth  double  the  price 
paid  for  it,  but  because  whoever  had  the  land  had  the 
title  too.  When  all  his  accounts  were  squared,  he  found 
himself  as  bare  as  St.  JoH\i  in  the  desert. 

Thus  comfortably  settled  in  the  Avorld,  he  started  for 
France,  where  he  knew  nobody,  and  he  passed  the  best 
years  of  his  youth  in  eating  dry  bread  on  the  streets  of 
Paris.     In  1852,  an  honest  printer  furnished  him  with 
the  means  of  living,  at  a  moment  when  the  portraits  of 
his  ancestors  were  his  last  resource.     Thanks  to  good 
.  old  Silivergo,  twenty-four  generations  of  the  Mirandas 
were  saved  from  the  picture-dealers  as  miraculously  as 
Moses  from  the  waters  of  the  Nile.     You  know  the 
rest  of  the  story.     An  incredible  part  of  it  is,  that  a 
young  man  who  earned  less  than  six  hundred  dollars  a 
year,  could  have  managed  to  save  the  sum  of  a  thousand 
dollars  in  five  years.     But  the  Italians,  high  and  low, 
can  exercise  at  a  pinch  the  most  heroic  self-denial. 
These  salad-  and  macaroni-eaters  have  received  from 
nature  a  simplicity  of  taste  which  is  in  itself  at  once 
riches  and  independence.     Unhappy  is  the  man  who 
has  Avants !     The  superb  Meo,  who  in  his  time  had  rev- 
elled in  fortune's  smiles  as  joyously  as  another,  easily 
accustomed  himself  to  live  on  a  little.     He  took  his 
meals  in  some  hole  unknown  to  gods  and  men ;  but  he 
was  always  dressed  like  a  lord,  drank  his  coft'ee  now 
and  then  at  Tortoni's,  and  was   never  without   some 
small  change  to  give  the  poor.     It  was  the  only  way  he 
ever  thought  of  getting  rid  of  them. 


INNOCENT    DREAMINGS.  61 

CHAPTER  IV. 

INNOCENT   DREAMINGS. 

WHEN  a  man  at  the  age  for  falling  in  love,  that  is 
to  say  from  fifteen  to  seventy-five,  has  met  in  the 
theatre  or  at  a  ball  a  woman  who  has  pleased  him,  he 
carries  away  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart  a  little  stock  of 
pleasure  which  is  not  used  up  in  a  single  day.  For  a 
whole  week,  sometimes  even  longer,  he  is  haunted  by 
an  after-taste  of  tenderness ;  he  looks  on  the  world  ^vith 
a  more  sympathizing  eye ;  and  he  finds  in  the  most  in- 
different objects  something  that  reminds  him  of  the 
delicious  aroma  of  love.  With  day-dreamers  this  state 
of  indolent  enjoyment  lasts  longest ;  they  who  relish  it 
most  are  those  secluded  and  languisliing  hearts  that  take 
a  month  to  digest  the  perfume  of  a  rose.  They  abandon 
themselves  without  an  effort  to  the  current  of  a  sweetly 
pensive  hope ;  in  memory's  magic  mirror  they  gaze  with 
delight  on  the  enchanting  and  well  remembered  face; 
and  to  make  the  most  of  their  charming  dream,  they 
obstinately  shut  their  eyes  against  the  glaring  light  of 
reality. 

But  this  very  face,  which  we  had  stowed  away  so 
preciously  in  the  depths  of  our  heart,  which  had  been  at 
first  so  bright  and  clear  and  sharply  outlined,  after  a 
few  days  begins  to  change.  It  grows  blurred  and  dis- 
torted, and  the  imagination  invests  it  with  a  thousand 
capricious  features.  It  is  soon  as  faint  and  shadowy  as 
the  form  of  the  early  angler  that  we  discover  through 
the  mists  of  morning  at  the  other  end  of  the  meadow. 


62  ROUGE    ET    NOIK. 

A  secret  instinct  warns  us  that  it  is  about  to  disappear. 
We  grasp  at  it  and  try  to  retain  it,  but  our  efforts  are 
vain.  Our  hands  are  as  empty  as  those  of  Ulysses 
when  he  tried  to  seize  the  fleeting  pliantoms  of  his  old 
friends.  At  last  it  vanishes  forever,  unless  some  lucky 
meeting  once  more  brings  before  our  eyes  the  bright 
original  of  the  faded  portrait. 

It  was  thus  that  Meo  came  very  near  losing  the  image 
of  the  fjiir  Emma.  For  a  whole  month  he  had  aban- 
doned himself  quietly  to  the  mere  pleasure  of  loving, 
which  exists  in  us  all.  He  fancied  somehow  or  other 
that  she  did  not  live  very  far  off,  and  he  calmly  waited 
for  some  opportunity  of  seeing  her  again.  This  oppor- 
tunity he  made  no  efforts  whatever  to  seek ;  you  would 
have  said  that  he  made  a  scruple  of  forcing  chance  to  be 
in  his  favor.  Every  time  that  he  closed  his  eyes  and 
saw  the  sunny  locks  on  Emma's  pretty  little  head,  the 
veins  of  his  neck  swelled,  just,  in  fact,  as  if  Cupid  had 
seized  him  by  the  throat.  He  told  his  love  to  every- 
body — •  friends  and  strangers  were  alike  regaled  with  the 
overflowings  of  his  heart;  but  he  felt  no  immediate 
necessity  for  repeating  to  Euima  what  he  had  once  said  ^ 
to  her.  If  some  one  came  and  said,  "You  will  never 
see  her  again!"  it  might  perhaps  have  given  him  a 
mortal  shock;  still  he  was  not  very  impatient  to  see 
her  immediately.  He  loved  passively,  just  as  we  feel 
heat  or  cold. 

It  was  only  the  thought  of  danger  that  aroused  in 
any  way  the  vigor  of  his  character.  He  imagined  he 
had  a  rival,  and,  so  thinking,  he  was  always  provided 
with  an  excellent  dagger.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
peaceful  of  men,  but  he  had  his  own  Italian  idea  about 


INNOCENT    DREA  MINGS.  53 

the  removing  of  obstacles.  If  his  rival  had  been  pointed 
out  to  liini  in  the  street,  he  would  consider  it  a  mere 
matter  of  course  to  kill  him  on  the  spot,  not  from  jeal- 
ousy or  wounded  vanity,  but  simply  to  have  a  rival  no 
longer. 

In  the  midst  of  these  thoughts,  he  became  aware  one 
mornino;  that  the  ima^e  of  the  beautiful  Unknown  was 
not  nearly  as  distinct  in  his  memory  as  usual.  This 
surprised  him.  He  closed  his  eyes  to  examine  the 
better,  but  the  features  of  the  enchanting  countenance 
began  to  float  about  as  confusedly  as  the  reflection  of  a 
castle  in  the  rapid  current  of  the  Rhine.  The  colors 
were  as  bright  as  ever,  but  the  outline  was  gone.  All 
his  efforts  to  fix  it  only  helped  to  efface  it  still  more. 
He  was  like  the  awkward  fellow  who,  wishing  to  get  a 
better  look  at  the  little  water-color  painting,  cleaned  it 
off*  very  nicely  with  his  sleeve.  Then  he  was  seized 
with  despair,  and  he  moaned  and  lamented  as  bitterly 
over  his  illusi5n  as  if  it  were  dead,  because  he  felt  it  to 
be  dying.  But  at  the  same  time  he  set  the  springs  of 
his  will  in  motion,  and  he  began  to  scour  Paris  like  a 
wood  to  see  if  he  could  beat  up  Emma. 

On  her  side.  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin  had  carried  away 
in  the  bottom  of  her  heart  a  tender  little  remembrance, 
weak  and  puny  as  an  infant  picked  up  under  an  arch, 
and  she  nourished  it  secretly.  On  her  return  home, 
after  the  great  adventure  of  her  life,  her  only  and  ab- 
sorbing sentiment  was  fear.  She  trembled  lest  the  Cap- 
tain's eye  should  read  what  was  written  in  her  soul,  and 
the  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  her  tell-tale  countenance 
was  absolutely  as  transparent  as  crystal.  The  day,  she 
thought,  would  never  come  to  an  end,  and  she  tried  to 
6* 


64  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

hurry  throuj^h  it  by  doing  a  hundred  diiferent  things. 
She  bustled  about  more  than  usual ;  she  could  hardly 
bear  to  sit  still  a  moment ;  she  was  like  a  little  bird  in 
the  wood,  jumping  from  limb  to  limb.  She  tried  to 
sing,  but  the  tone  of  her  voice  was  no  longer  natural ; 
instead  of  soft  and  sweet,  it  sounded  harsh  and  metallic. 
She  dared  not  look  at  her  father  or  at  her  accomplice 
Agatha.  She  was  so  much  in  dread  of  the  Captain's 
familiar  question,  "What  are  you  thinking  of?"  that 
in  his  presence  she  was  afraid  of  thinking  at  all.  Her 
heart  was  like  a  hiding-place  where  we  have  secreted 
some  ill  -  gotten  treasure ;  we  are  afraid  even  to  look 
towards  it  ourselves,  for  fear  that  doing  so  might  render 
it  suspected  by  the  eyes  of  justice. 

Her  father  took  her  to  the  Jardin  des  Plantes.  She 
had  not  been  there  for  a  long  time,  and  in  her  ab- 
sence, spring  had  made  some  progress.  The  sun  was 
warm,  and  fragrant  blossoms  clothed  the  early  trees. 
The  Captain  railed  at  the  mud,  abused  the  little  boys 
that  drove  their  hoops  between  his  legs,  and  execrated 
the  stale  odor  of  the  lilacs,  which  gave  him  the  head- 
ache. But  his  daughter  inhaled  with  delight  these 
light  perfumes  of  the  young  year ;  she  tripped  over  the 
moist  earth  as  lightly  as  over  a  velvet  carpet ;  she  even 
thought  the  candy  moustaches  of  the  children  made  them 
look  prettier.  The  white  bear  wagged  his  head  wearily 
over  his  trough  of  dirty  water.  Emma  looked  with 
compassion  on  the  poor  melancholy  exile,  and  considered 
his  countenance  quite  interesting.  But  the  girl,  who 
hitherto  had  been  a  regular  little  babbler,  and  always 
accustomed  to  think  aloud,  now  forgot  to  impart  a  single 
thought  to  her  father.     Only  the  previous  evening,  she 


INNOCENT    D  RE  A  MINGS.  66 

had  been  as  lavish  of  her  ideas  as  those  prodigals  are 
of  their  money  who  give  it  to  everybody  and  keep  noth- 
ing for  themselves.  But  the  moment  that  we  begin  to 
lay  something  by,  is  the  moment  when  we  begin  to  re- 
trench our  expenditure. 

Night  came  at  last.  After  a  dinner  passed  in  silence, 
and  an  evening  more  gloomy  than  usual,  Emma,  safe 
and  sound  in  her  room,  hurried  through  her  even- 
ing toilet,  slipped  shivering  into  her  little  blue  bed,  ex- 
tinguished the  candle,  and  said  to  herself,  almost  aloud, 
"  Now  I  'm  at  home  !  "  It  was  then  that  she  cautiously 
groped  her  way  down  into  the  most  secret  recesses  of 
her  soul,  and,  curious  to  know  all  about  it,  she  began  to 
dissipate  the  light  clouds  tliat  kept  troubling  the  se- 
renity of  her  conscience.  The  ideas  that  she  had  been 
putting  off  ever  since  the  morning,  now  came  crowding 
on  her  all  at  once,  and,  in  the  tumultuous  assemblage, 
she  did  not  know  where  to  begin.  The  fine  lords  and 
ladies  in  the  gilt  frames,  the  bewildered  countenance  of 
poor  Agatha,  the  beautiful  young  man,  the  impudent 
school-boys,  her  father  the  Captain,  and  the  white  bear 
—  what  a  legion !  How  could  she  entertain  so  many 
visitors  ai  once?  But,  little  by  little,  the  secondary 
personages  withdrew  into  the  background,  and  the 
young  man  of  the  Rue  St.  Catherine  remained  stand- 
ing alone  in  a  grand  blaze  of  light,  like  some  glorious 
saint  of  Raphael,  whose  radiant  nimbus  illuminates  the 
whole  picture. 

Emma  was  not  yet  quite  certain  that  he  was  good- 
looking,  and  that  a  woman  might  be  proud  of  appear- 
ing in  the  street  on  his  arm.  She  had  been  dazzled  by 
his  brilliancy,  and  that  was  all  she  could  remember. 


56  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

The  poor  cliild  was  only  a  novice  in  the  ways  of  the  world. 
Slie  had  not  the  practised  glance  of  the  experienced 
damsels  of  society,  Avho  measure  a  man  from  head  to 
foot,  note  all  the  strong  and  weak  points  of  his  charac- 
ter, and,  in  short,  enable  themselves  to  write  out  his 
passport,  without  once  even  looking  at  him  or  even 
taking  their  eyes  off  their  embroidery.  This  talent,  like 
that  of  the  sporting  gentleman  who  never  makes  any- 
thing but  winning  bets,  demands  a  series  of  studies  in 
the  science  of  comparison,  and  cannot  be  acquired  with- 
out passing  a  few  years  in  the  "  ring."  But  Emma, 
having  never  set  foot  in  a  ball-room,  of  course  had 
never  witnessed  a  race  between  those  young  steeds  that 
the  great  Cellarius  trains  to  run  for  a  prize,  and  who 
are  married  oif  as  soon  as  possible  when  they  can  run 
no  more. 

She  could  not  tell  whether  his  ligure  was  fine,  his 
hair  well  set,  his  eye  bright,  or  his  leg  well-shaped. 
She  had  been  so  poorly  raised  that  she  had  no  idea  of 
what  we  call  a  well-made  man.  She  knew  little  more 
of  the  opposite  sex  than  that  she  had  always  avoided 
thein  on  the  sidewalk.  But  she  remembered  that  tlie 
stranger  was  young  and  poor,  brave  and  respectful,  kind 
and  melancholy.  Slie  felt  grateful  to  him  for  having 
defended  her,  and  for  not  having  followed  her.  Above 
all,  she  remembered  these  words,  which  had  flashed 
through  her  heart  like  an  electric  shock,  "I  will  love 
you  all  my  life !  "  This  sentence  rang  continually  in 
her  ears,  and  whatever  efforts  she  made  to  drive  it  away, 
it  always  returned,  more  importunate  and  more  harmo- 
nious. An  invisible  orchestra  played  infinite  variations 
on  this  monotonous  but  charming  theme.   '^  lie  is  surely 


INNOCENT    DREAMINGS.  57 

crazy/'  she  thought ;  "  people  don't  fall  in  love  this  way 
at  first  sight.  Of  course  he  was  only  joking.  Yet  the 
poor  fellow  looked  more  like  crying.  But  suppose  he 
was  really  in  earnest !  What  a  terrible  misfortune ! 
Papa  would  never  forgive  him  —  and  then  he  can't  ex- 
pect me  to  fall  in  love  with  him,  though  of  course  I 
don't  hate  him  either  —  people  must  not  be  ungrateful. 
Fortunately,  he  don't  know  who  I  am  nor  where  I  live. 
He  won't  make  love  to  me,  and  Pa  won't  cut  his  head 
off.  Keally  Pa  is  a  most  astonishing  man.  That  all 
men  are  not  like  him,  I  need  not  go  far  for  a  proof! 
No  matter,  it  is  nice  to  think  that  you  have  a  man 
somewhere  in  Paris  who  will  love  you  all  his  life ! " 
She  nestled  her  little  head  luxuriously  on  the  pillow, 
and  softly  murmuring  the  three  words,  "  all  his  life" 
she  closed  her  eyes,  caressing  the  sweet  illusion,  as  little 
girls  sometimes  fall  asleep  embracing  their  dolls. 

Next  day,  and  for  some  days  following,  she  never 
went  to  the  window  without  a  certain  uneasiness.  When- 
ever she  went  out  with  her  father,  she  looked  back  every 
now  and  then,  dreading  lest  the  poor  madman  of  the 
Hue  St.  Catherine  should  come  and  betray  himself  in 
the  presence  of  the  terrible  Captain.  But  no  one  ap- 
peared, and  by  degrees  she  began  to  take  courage, 
though  not  without  a  little  surprise.  All  the  men  that 
she  saw  at  a  distance  resenibled  the  beautiful  stranger. 
One  day  she  passed  before  his  house  in  company  with 
the  Captain.  The  window  was  open;  she  looked  in 
with  a  searching  glance,  but  she  saw  nothing  but  por- 
traits. "  That  is  his  room,  however,"  she  thought. 
"  What  can  he  be  doing  ?  I  would  bet  a  hundred  to 
one  that  he  does  not  give  me  a  thought.    Well,  so  much 


58  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

the  better!"  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think,  however, 
that  she  bit  her  lips  at  the  words,  "so  much  the 
better ! " 

Plad  she  been  surrounded  by  the  pleasui-es  of  her  age, 
no  doubt  she  would  have  forgotten  in  a  week  this  stran- 
ger, who  was  really  nothing  to  her.  But  it  is  dangerous 
to  isolate  a  young  girl,  -and  to  shut  her  up  within  her- 
self, particularly  if  in  company  with  something  to  re- 
member. Her  father,  seeing  her  thoughtful  one  day, 
said  : 

"  What  ails  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing ;  why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"You're  so  quiet.     Do  you  want  amusement?" 

"  Not  at  all,  papa;  I  have  amusement  enough  all  to 
myself." 

She  kept  her  thoughts  to  herself,  not  sharing  them 
even  with  stout  Agatha ;  indeed  she  considered  them  too 
absurd  to  be  talked  about.  She  even  carefully  avoided 
touching  on  the  subject  at  all  with  her,  as  if  poor 
Agatha  had  not  long  ago  forgotten  every  single  particle 
of  the  adventure. 

One  morning  that  the  Captain  had  left  them  together, 
Agatha  said  : 

"  Mademoiselle ! " 

"Hold  your  tongue,"  replied  Emma,  putting  her 
hand  on  the  servant's  mouth.  "  I  order  you  not  to  say 
one  word  about  it." 

"  But  about  what  ?  " 

"  About  what  you  wanted  to  talk  about." 

"  You  don't  want  me  to  tell  you  that  my  stone-grate 
is  burned !  I  tell  you  I  must  have  a  new  one :  it  saves 
coal." 


INNOCENT     DREAMINGS.  59 

Emma,  nevertheless,  remained  quite  persuaded  tliat 
Agatha  had  been  trying  to  open  the  door  for  confiden- 
tial disclosures,  and  she  admired  herself  for  having  kept 
her  secret.  X  month  later,  of  her  own  accord,  she  broke 
this  profound  silence.  She  was  going  to  church  one 
morning  in  company  with  Agatha,  for  the  Captain  took 
her  everywhere  but  there.  The  amiable  man  was  on 
bad  terms  with  the  other  world  as  well  as  with  this. 
Emma  stopped  a  moment,  and  said,  looking  straight 
into  the  servant's  eyes : 

"You've  no  longer  any  confidence  in  me,  then? 
Why  don't  you  talk  to  me  about  our  lover?" 

"  What  lover?"  asked  Agatha. 

"  Why,  our  protector,  you  know,  with  the  black 
beard;  him  who  said  he  was  going  to  love  us  all  his 
life." 

"  Are  you  thinking  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  ?  no  more  than  he  is  of  us  !  But  tell  me,  Agatha, 
wdiy  do  men  amuse  themselves  in  telling  us  stories  that 
they  forget  the  moment  after?  What  do  they  gain  by 
it?     Who,  do  they  think,  are  fooled  by  their  stories  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  rej)lied  Agatha.  "Men 
have  never  told  me  any  stories.  But  I  can  understand 
how  a  man  can  fall  dead  in  love  with  you.  Good  rea- 
son for  it ! " 

"  Oh  !  I  give  them  all  permission  to  fall  dead  in  love 
with  me,  if  they  're  not  more  troublesome  than  the  first 
one." 

"Really,  then,  you  are  thinking  about  him?" 

"I  should  not  know  him  if  I  met  him." 

As  she  said  these  words,  all  the  blood  of  her  heart 
crimsoned  her  face,  as  if  to  give  her  the  lie.     She  had 


60  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

just  seen  Meo  standing  on  the  stops  of  St.  PauVs.  "At 
last,  then  !"  she  thought.  He  was  lookhig  for  her  evi- 
dently, but  he  had  not  yet  seen  her.  Women's  eyes 
are  quicker  than  ours,  and  when  we  cross  glances 
with  them,  the  man  is  the  first  hit.  Emma  profited 
by  her  advantage  to  examine  with  attention  that  fine 
face  which  had  commenced  to  become  rather  indistinct 
in  her  memory.  She  found  it  less  florid,  more  sombre, 
and  far  more  interesting  than  on  the  first  day.  But  sud- 
denly it  lit  up ;  the  eyes  sparkled  ;  the  recognition  had 
been  mutual.  The  stranger  saluted  her  eagerly,  and 
with  such  demonstrations  of  joy  that  Emma  was  afraid 
she  should  sec  him  make  a  dash  for  her  ri<»;ht  throuo;h 
the  crowd.  She  hurried  stout  Agatha  along,  and  flung 
herself  into  the  church  as  into  an  asylum,  while  Meo, 
too  much  excited  to  stir  a  foot,  remained  nailed  to  the 
spot. 

The  two  women  threw  themselves  kneelina;  on  the 
chairs,  poor  lame  Agatha  ready  to  drop  from  such  un- 
usual exertion.  "  What  on  earth  ails  you  ?  "  said  she 
to  her  mistress. 

"  Did  n't  you  see  him  ?  He  was  standing  before  the 
church.     He  is  pursuing  us." 

"Who?" 

"  He,  I  tell  you.  There 's  not  two  of  them.  How 
stupid  you  are ! " 

"  Oh !  now  I  understand,"  said  Agatha,  who  really 
had  not  the  least  idea  of  Mdiat  was  going  on. 

Emma  read  her  Mass  that  morning  with  unusual  fer- 
vor. She  was  no  devotee,  having  little  more  piety 
than  is  generally  acquired  in  good  boarding-schools ; 
but  at  the  least  appearance  of  danger,  timid  souls  take 


INNOCEXT    DREAMINGS.  61 

refuge  in  prayer.  If  you  had  seen  her  move  her  lips, 
close  her  eyes,  throw  back  her  head  in  a  sort  of  half 
ecstasy,  you  would  have  been  very  much  edified,  I  am 
perfectly  certain.  But  while  her  lips  murmured  broken 
sentences  of  the  Latin  text,  two  tears  of  emotion  glit- 
tered in  her  long  eyelashes  —  charming  tears,  which 
the  angels  sought  not  to  collect,  but  allowed  to  fall  to 
earth,  because  very  probably  they  had  not  been  intended 
for  heaven. 

It  all  went  on  very  well  till  the  reading  of  the  gospel. 
But,  at  the  xery  first  verse,  the  young  girl  was  seized 
W"ith  a  strange  uneasiness,  which  was  not  however  with- 
out its  charm.  She  found  it  as  difficult  to  read  as  if  a 
sun-ray  had  come  to  dance  on  the  pages  of-  her  missal. 
In  spite  of  her  reverence  for  the  holy  place  she  was  in, 
she  felt  herself  assailed  at  once  by  every  roguish  imp 
that  waits  on  Cupid ;  by  the  one  Avho  slips  the  portrait 
of  an  absent  person  in  between  our  closed  eyelids; 'by 
the  one  who  flutters  around  our  ears,  always  murmuring 
the  same  name ;  by  the  -one  that  forces  us  to  turn  our 
head  towards  those  that  we  don't  want  to  see ;  by  the 
one  that  makes  a  lover  lose  his  way  in  the  park,  until 
he  is  brought  up,  in  spite  of  himself,  before  the  door  he 
detests ;  by  the  one  that  waves  under  our  nose  an  invisi- 
ble feather,  fragrant  with  the  perfumes  of  adored  ring- 
lets ;  by  the  one  that  guides  our  hands  when  we  write 
things  that  prudence  absolutely  forbids.  Attacked  on 
all  sides  by  this  buzzing  multitude,  poor  Emma  tried 
to  recollect  herself,  but  in  vain.  In  spite  of  all  her  ef- 
forts to  direct  her  thoughts  inwardly,  a  secret  agitation 
impelled  her  towards  external  objects.  She  felt  some- 
times as  if  the  baud  of  winged  imps  had  made  their  way 


62  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

into  her  brain,  as  into  an  ill-gnardcd  chamber,  and  that 
they  were  throwinj^  the  furnitiu'e  out  of  the  windows. 
For  nothinir  in  the  world  would  she  have  turned  her 
head  around,  so  great  was  her  fear  of  finding  herself 
face  to  face  with  the  stranger.  But  raising  her  eyes,  she 
saw  Meo  standing  in  the  shadow  of  a  pillar  and  admir- 
ing her  quite  at  his  ease. 

In  certain  Assumptions  of  the  Spanish  school,  you 
must  have  seen  a  group  of  disciples  on  their  knees  be- 
fore the  miracle.  Murillo  has  best  rendered  the  ecstatic 
transport  of  these  believing  souls.  Holy  faith  sparkles 
in  their  eyes;  their  swarthy  faces  seem  to  be  interiorly 
burning  with  the  mystic  fires  of  divine  love.  Such 
pretty  nearly  was  Meo  before  the  Captain's  daughter ; 
he  was  absolutely  worshipping  her.  A  woman  should 
have  a  sino-ular  turn  of  mind  indeed  to  feel  offended  at 
such  worship  as  that;  and  Emma  naturally  looked  two 
or  tliree  times  Mithout  much  malevolence  at  the  man 
who  rendered  her  such  discreet  homage. 

She  saw  him  again  on  leaving  the  church,  and  she 
made  no  scruple  whatever  in  acknowledging  his  bow  as 
he  saluted  her  and  disappeared.  Every  Sunday  after 
that  she  saw  him  in  the  same  place.  She  sometimes  saw 
him  on  the  sidewalk  in  the  street  before  her  windows. 
He  always  passed  like  a  man  in  a  hurry,  and  even  the 
Captain  himself  could  have  never  guessed  what  the  im- 
portant business  was.  The  first  consequence  of  these 
comings  and  goings  was  that  the  young  people  thought 
of  nothing  but  each  other  during  the  rest  of  the  week ; 
and  as  each  of  them  deserved  to  be  loved,  they  were 
not  long  in  doing  each  other  justice.  The  Captain's 
watchfulness  and  their  own  timidity  kept  them  a  proper 


INXOCENT    DREAMINGS.  63 

distance  apart,  but  when  their  eyes  met,  it  was  like  an 
embrace. 

Innocent  young  hearts  !  I  have  heard  a  witty  lady 
from  Dauphiny  say  that  love  is  fed  like  silkworms.  A 
little  tender  mulberry-leaf  satisfies  them  while  yonno;, 
but  when  full-grown  they  eat  up  everything,  even  to  the 
very  joists  of  the  floor. 

Emma  said  one  day  to  her  father,  when  he  was  almost 
in  good  humor:  "Dear  little  papa,  are  we  going  to  live 
this  way  always?" 

The  old  man  made  a  grimace,  and  answered  in  a  tone 
half  kind,  half  bitter,  "Dear  little  daughter,  we're  not 
going  to  live  always,  seeing  that  we  are  not  immor- 
tal. Patience,  child !  One  of  these  fine  mornings,  the 
undertaker  will  rid  you  of  your  poor  old  shred  of  a 
father."  EmmaAvept  seven  days  and  seven  nights,  like 
Jephtha's  daughter,  and  her  father  pretended  not  to  see 
it.  But  he  gave  stout  Agatha  an  awful  scolding,  and 
ended  by  threatening  to  turn  her  out  of  doors  if  she 
continued  to  be  filling  her  young  mistress's  head  with 
ideas. 

"  Oh !  the  dear  good  heaven,  is  it  possible ! "  cried 
the  poor  creature,  horror-struck  at  such  an  accusation. 
"  Ideas !  I  'm  blessed  if  I  know  what  in  the  living  earth 
an  idea  is !  " 


64  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    PLAY-BILLS. 

MEO,  without  a  friend,  and  Avithout  a  sou,  was  the 
liuppiest  of  men.  His  old  patron,  M.  Silivergo, 
had  answered  him  in  round  terms,  "  You  are  an  ingrate ; 
ingratitude  is  the  worst  of  vices,  and  the  Egyptians  in 
the  good  old  times  did  right  in  punishing  it  with  death. 
I  only  hope  some  day  or  other  you  will  want  me  again. 
I  luxuriate  in  the  idea  of  shutting  the  door  in  your  face. 
Should  desire  or  necessity  ever  impel  you  again  to  seek 
employment,  I  would  advise  you  to  apply  elsewhere. 
In  short,  I  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  swear 
that  henceforth  I  will  never  oblige  anybody  again. 
Henceforward,  I  shall  never  interest  myself  in  the  case 
of  any  unfortunate  man,  however  great  his  merits  may 
seem,  and  your  conduct  is  the  cause  of  the  whole  of 
it." 

The  .same  day,  his  countrywoman,  Signora  Aurelia, 
had  hastened  in  a  carriage  to  the  Rue  St  Catherine. 
She  came  do^vn  on  No.  4  like  an  avalanche,  which  in 
fact  she  really  was;  but,  not  finding  her  old  friend  at 
home,  she  could  not  have  the  consolation  of  tearing  his 
eyes  out.  Falling  back  on  the  porter's  lodge,  she  there 
told  all  her  sorrows  to  Monsieur  and  JNIadame  Ride, 
Avhom  she  saw  for  the  first  time.  These  good  folks  in- 
terrupted their  dinner  to  listen  to  her  lamentations. 
She  had  thrown  herself  on  a  cliair  with  a  familiarity 
thoroughly  Italian;   she  called   the   porter  "my  dear 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  65 

friend,"  and  his  wife  "  my  dear ; "  in  fact,  had  they  been 
her  father  and  mother  she  could  have  scarcely  made  her- 
self more  at  home.  She  showed  them  how  her  soul  was 
tortured,  her  life  laid  waste,  her  hopes  dead,  her  sun 
extinct.  In  the  midst  of  her  tears,  she  picked  out  the 
nicest  bits  in  the  bowl,  taking  them  with  her  fingers, 
and  not  even  raising  her  pagoda  sleeves.  The  sight  of 
grief  so  real,  and  of  manners  so  utterly  un-Frenchlike, 
made  the  two  old  people  laugh  and  cry  by  turns.  Au- 
relia  had  no  hesitation  in  commissioning  them  as  am- 
bassadors to  Meo.  She  charged  them  to  tell  him  that 
all  was  over  forever,  even  friendship ;  that  she  had  no 
wish  whatever  to  listen  to  any  of  his  confidential  dis- 
closures, and  that,  if  he  dared  to  present  himself  before 
her,  she  would  tear  his  eyes  out.  She  even  showed 
them  a  little  dagger  that  she  had  bought  for  the  express 
purpose ;  for  she  took  words  literally,  and  never  trou- 
bled herself  about  the  subtleties  of  the  French  language. 

Three  weeks  later,  Meo's  friend  wrote  him  from  Bo- 
logna the  following  letter : 

"  ]My  Dear  and  Esteemed  Friend  :  — -.It  is  indeed 
very  true  that  love  consoles  us  for  everything.  Every 
day's  delightful  experience  convinces  me  of  the  truth  of 
this  maxim.  In  vain  am  I  unrelentingly  persecuted  by 
jealous  fate;  the  little  Marchioness's  love  gives  me  more 
pleasure  than  all  other  things  can  give  me  trouble. 
The  two  last  harvests  have  been  so  bad,  that  my  poor 
tenants  ask  me  for  money  instead  of  bringing  it.  The 
family  law-suit  is  slowly  dragging  along  in  its  third 
stage.     I  have  obtained  eleven  favorable  decisions,  and 

6*  E 


66  ROUGEETNOIR. 

oiu-  aflversaries  only  ten.  If  the  appeal  which  they 
have  lodged  as  a  last  resource  is  not  granted  by  the 
Rota,  I  shall  have  gained  my  suit,  provided,  of  course, 
that  the  Ser/natura  does  not  reverse  the  decision.  The 
twenty-one  decisions  rendered  by  the  Rota,  for  and 
against  us,  have  cost  me  a  thousand  Roman  crowns 
apiece;  the  whole  suit  then  will  have  cost  me  twenty- 
one  thousand  crowns  if  I  gain  it,  and  if  I  lose  it  I  am 
irretrievably  ruined.  But  what  are  riches  or  poverty 
to  a  heart  really  happy  ?  For  fifteen  years,  not  a  cloud 
has  disturbed  the  serenity  of  our  love.  It  is  in  vain 
that  the  jealous  Marquis  tries  to  frustrate  our  plans  ten 
times  a  week ;  we  contrive  to  see  each  other  every  day 
in  public,  but  very  seldom  in  private.  The  man  would 
tie  poor  Hersilia  to  the  leg  of  his  arm-chair,  if  he  dared ; 
you  know  yourself  that  he  never  left  her  chain  very 
long.  His  infirmities  serve  him  as  a  pretext  for  keep- 
ing her  in  the  house;  he  is  quite  hyppish.  The  worst 
of  it  is,  no  one  can  tell  when  he  is  going  to  get  well ;  he 
may  bury  us  all  yet.  Hersilia  waits  on  him  with  a  sub- 
lime devotion.  Many  a  woman  in  her  place  woulil 
rather  help  him  to  his  grave.  I  have  free  access  to  the 
house  on  all  occasions,  though  the  Marquis,  I  am  sure, 
regards  me  with  secret  hostility.  Very  often  in  his  very 
presence,  in  his  room,  near  his  arm-chair,  a  glance  from 
Hersilia  or  a  pleasant  word  supplies  me  with  happiness 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  In  the  masked  war  that  I  j^a- 
tiently  wage  against  him,  on  his  own  ground,  I  have  on 
my  side  Hersilia,  the  servants,  and  the  whole  city ;  his 
only  ally  is  his  great  booby  of  a  son  whom  we  shall  soon 
get  rid  of,  please  goodness,  by  means  of  a  good  marriage. 
In  spite  of  all  troubles,  all  opjiositions,  all  jealousies, 


THE     PLAY-BILLS.  67 

I  actually  live  in  paradise,  for  not  a  moment  passes 
without  reminding  me  that  I  love  and  am  beloved. 
Dear  Meo,  once  in  the  early  period  of  our  happiness, 
you  were  our  confidant.  Why  can't  I  have  you  here 
now  to  share  with  you  my  pleasures  and  my  pains ! 
Hersilia  is  becoming  dearer  and  dearer  to  me  every  day. 
Do  you  remember  how  pretty  she  was  sixteen  years  ago 
at  Marchetti's  ball,  in  1842?  At  present,  since  nature 
has  put  the  finishing  touch  to  her  beauty,  she  is  really 
divine.  What  a  sweet  harmony  unites  our  souls  !  We 
understand  each  other  without  uttering  a  single  word, 
as  if  Xature  had  placed  within  us  the  two  halves  of  the 
same  heart.  Why  are  you  not  here  ?  I  ask  again.  I 
should  so  like  to  tell  you  about  her,  and  to  recite  for  you 
with  living,  burning  words  this  sweet  love-poem  that 
the  pen  is  wholly  powerless  to  write.  Well !  Man  does 
not  command  fate.  But,  near  or  distant,  remember  that 
I  am  your  other  self,  and  as  such  I  remain,  with  my 
person  and  all  my  worldly  goods  unreservedly  at  your 
disposal.-  G.  Marsoxi. 

"  P.  S.  I  had  almost  forgotten  all  about  that  miser- 
able gold  of  yours.  In  conformity  with  your  desire,  I 
have  put  it  at  six  per  cent,  on  the  first  mortgage.  It 
will  be  due,  with  accrued  interest,  on  January  1st,  1862.'' 

M^o  required  ho  further  encouragement  to  begin  sell- 
ing his  ancestors.  His  cash  was  all  gone ;  his  furniture, 
long  since  reduced  to  what  was  absolutely  necessary, 
could  not  keep  him  alive  a  month ;  as  for  his  jewels, 
he  and  they  were  inseparable  —  they  formed  a  part  of 
him.  Meo  without  jewels  would  be  Meo  no  longer. 
Pardon  him    this    little  weakness.     Nothinar    was    left 


C8  ROUGE    ET    Nom. 

tlien  but  his  family  portraits,  which  he  had  smuggled 
into  Paris  out  of  Italy.     He  did  not  know  exactly  what 
the  whole  collection  might  be  worth,  but  he  did  know 
that  the  list  bore  the  names  of  the  greatest  masters  of 
the  Bolognese  school,  from  Oderigi,  a  contemporary  of 
Dante,  down  to  Pasinelli,  the  Romulus- Augustulus  of 
that  long  dynasty.     Among  other  rare  pieces,  it  con- 
tained a  Francia  (which  the  Louvre  has  not),  and  a 
hidy's  portrait  painted  by  Albano  in  1600,  when  that 
artist  was  in  his  twenty-second  year,  and  used  to  paint 
large  pictures  for  churches.     The  three  Caracci,  Domeni- 
chino,  and  Guercino  daubed  with  black,  lived  there  on 
friendly  terras  with  Guido  of  the  rosy  fingers.     I  don't 
speak  of  the  twenty  or  thirty  others,  tolerable,  bad,  or 
miserable,  which  of  course  were  to  be  found  there  as 
well  as  in  all  other  portrait  galleries.     Meo  coolly  re- 
viewed the  sacred  legion  of  his  ancestors,  like  a  shepherd 
selectino;  from  a  flock  the  animals  that  he  wants  to  sell. 
He  reserved  the  oldest  and  the  latest  portraits;  the 
former,  because  they  proved  the  antiquity  of  his  family ; 
the  latter,  because  they  reminded  him  of  some  relations 
that  he  had  known  and  loved.     Five  or  six  others  he 
also  laid  aside,  because  they  represented  the  most  cele- 
brated personages  of  the  house  of  Miranda,  or   those 
with  whom  he  felt  most  sympathy.     General  Augusto 
Narni,  for  instance,  who  was  killed  in  1525  at  the  battle 
of  Pavia,  and  likewise  the  beautiful  Olympia,  who  took 
poison  sooner  than  marry  a  Bentivoglio,  were  exempted 
from  the  sale.     The  rest  were  packed  straight  off  to 
JJatlf/nolles,  to  the  curiosity-shop  of  a  Milanese  picture- 
dealer,  who  traded  in  old  originals  and  manufactured 
them   too.     Meo  knew  him   but  slightly,   whereas  the 


THE     PLAY-BILLS.  69 

other  was  veiy  well  acquainted  with  the  Miranda 
gallery.  As  soon  as  the  young  man  had  acquainted 
him  with  his  resolution,  the  old  rogue  says  to  him : 
"  You  can  make  fifty  thousand  francs  out  of  your  pic- 
tures, or  five  hundred,  just  as  you  please.  Shall  we  take 
the  whole  collection  to  the  City  Auction  Rooms,  with- 
out omitting  a  single  one,  not  even  the  portrait  of  your 
father  the  Count?  In  that  case  we  shall  get  out  im- 
mense posters  all  over  Paris,  announcing  the  sale  of  the 
Miranda  gallery,  complete  and  unreserved.  Your  col- 
lection is  well  known:  amateurs  will  come;  plenty  of 
money  will  come  too.  But  what  you  bring  me  here  is 
neither  complete  nor  authenticated.  Signatures  prove 
nothing  out  of  a  celebrated  gallery.  Every  week  I 
sign  a  picture  with  the  name  of  some  old  master." 

''  But  the  pictures  are  good !  "  exclaimed  Meo. 

"  I  don't  deaiy  it,  but  they  '11  bring  nothing  if  you 
don't  listen  to  me.  Such  amateurs  as  buy,  don't  care 
a  jot  for  '  good  pictures ; '  a  celebrated  gallery  is  all 
they  trouble  themselves  about.  Your  Francia,  which 
is  worth  ten  thousand  francs  in  a  collection,  won't  brino; 
a  hundred  and  fifty  if  sold  separately." 

But  Meo  was  too  proud  to  stick  up  the  Miranda 
family  on  bills  at  the  street-corners,  and  well  the  dealer 
knew  it.  The  poor  fellow's  sensitiveness  and  his  utter 
ignorance  of  business  matters  left  him,  bound  neck  and 
lieels,  completely  at  the  tender  mercy  of  the  cunning 
Milanese.  He  acknowledged  innocently  that  he  was  in 
love,  could  not  bear  to  work,  and  had  not  a  single  re- 
source left  in  the  world;  for  the  present,  a  crust  of 
bread  sufficed  him;  for  his  future,  he  trusted  altogether 
to  luck,  being  utterly  ignorant  in  what  quarter  anything 


70  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

could  turn  up  in  his  favor ;  still  he  would  not  consent 
on  any  account  that  his  family  should  be  exposed  to  a 
public  sale.  He  bargained  more  timidly  than  a  thief  in 
a  receiver's  den  higgling  over  the  plate  he  has  stolen ; 
and  he  took  two  thousand  francs  ($400)  for  a  treasure 
well  worth  twenty  or  thirty  times  as  much.  A  certain 
instinct  of  self-defence,  however,  inspired  him  with  the 
idea  of  stipulating  for  the  right  of  redemption,  as  he 
had  done  when  selling  his  title;  to  this  the  broker 
readily  consented,  his  mind  being  quite  easy  as  to  the 
brilliancy  of  poor  Meo's  prospects.  It  was  then  agreed 
upon  and  drawn  uj)  in  writing  that  M.  Bartolomeo 
!Narui,  formerly  Count  of  Miranda,  could  redeem  his 
ancestors  at  any  time  within  two  years,  on  the  payment 
of  one  thousand  Roman  crowns  (about  $1000).  What- 
ever might  happen,  the  purchaser  Avas  pretty  sure  of 
having  made  a  good  investment.  • 

To  a  crazy  fellow  who  lived  altogether  in  the  present 
moment,  the  sum  of  two  thousand  francs  in  ready 
money  was  quite  a  fortune,  for  it  enabled  him  to  exist 
a  whole  year  without  bestowing  a  thought  on  anything 
but  his  love.  I  have  already  told  you  how  he  employed 
the  first  leisure  moments  that  he  had  obtained  by  the 
sale  of  his  family.  To  meet  Emma  at  church  or  in  the 
street,  to  see  her  at  her  window,  to  send  her  occasionally 
a  look  full  of  fire,  to  receive  in  return  a  little  glance 
not  over-cruel  in  its  expression,  such  were  the  elements 
of  the  contemplative  felicity  that  satisfied  him  for  a 
long  time. 

If  from  contemplation  he  passed  one  morning  to  ac- 
tion, M.  Bitterlin  alone  was  the  cause.  The  very  day 
after  that  on  which  the  Captain  had  threatened  to  turn 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  71 

Agatha  out  of  doors,  Meo  met  the  two  women  on  their 
way  to  church,  and  he  saw  by  their  eyes  that  they  liad 
been  weeping.  His  first  movement  was  to  accost  them 
unceremoniously,  the  natural  consequence  of  which  was 
that  they  sprang  back  as  shrinkingly  as  if  they  had 
trodden  on  a  serpent.  But  he  was  too  much  affected  by 
their  sorrow  to  mind  their  alarm,  and  he  said  to  Emma, 
without  any  preamble  and  as  if  continuing  the  mute 
conversation  that  they  had  been  holdino;  too-ether  duriuf 
the  last  month :  "  My  angel,  my  life,  my  love,  who  is 
the  man  that  has  made  you  weep  ?  Shall  I  kill  him  ? 
Say  the  word,  and  it  is  done  !  " 

Startled  at  the  sudden  meeting  and  at  such  an  address, 
trembling  lest  her  father  had  followed  her,  and  quite 
beside  herself  both  from  surprise  and  fear,  the  young 
girl  replied  as  she  hurried  away,  hardly  knowing  what 
she  said  :  "  But,  sir,  you  're  mad  !  I  don't  know  you  ! 
Kill  my  father !  It  is  he  who  has  made  us  weep.  He 
will  uevei>  consent  to  our  marriage.  He  detests  every- 
body,— you,  me,  Agatha:  he  has  talked  of  turning  her 
out  of  doors !  If  he  saw  us  together,  we  should  be  all 
undone.     In  the  name  of  heaven  then,  sir,  go  away !  " 

She  redoubled  her  speed  and  ran  off  to  the  church 
without  once  stopping  to  take  breath,  and  without  being 
aware  that  she  was  all  the  time  mechanically  clinging  to 
Meo's  arm.  Her  astonishment  was  inexpressible  when 
she  found  herself  seated,  in  a  side-chapel  of  St.  PauVs, 
between  Agatha  and  the  good-looking  stranger. 

The  Mass  which  they  heard  that  day  was  not  entered 
to  their  credit  in  the  ledger  of  Paradise. 

Meo,  as  an  Italian,  considered  it  quite  natural  to 
carry  on  a  love-affair  in  church ;  Emma,  a  far  better 


72  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

Christian,  yielded  finally,  but.  not  without  a  severe 
struggle.  At  one  time,  reproaching  herself  for  the  im- 
pious levity  of  her  conduct,  she  would  take  refuge  in 
her  prayer-book  and  pray  with  such  feverish  devotion 
that  she  heard  no  other  sound  than  the  murmur  of  her 
own  lips;  at  another  time,  she  could  hardly  help  yield- 
ing to  the  pleasure  of  hearing  Meo's  poetic,  passionate, 
and  extrtivagaut  lanouage.  A  Avoman  a  few  vears  older 
and  of  a  riper  understanding  would  have  perhaps 
laughed  at  such  a  flood  of  incoherent  and  inflated  words, 
comically  seasoned  by  a  foreign  accent  and  a  rather  ca- 
pricious grammar;  but  the  infatuation  of  love,  the  most 
contagious  thing  in  the  world,  by  degrees  gained  the 
young  heart  that  was  already  so  well  prepared  for  its 
reception.  Meo  was  not  a  man  of  very  great  sense  — ■ 
of  that  the  history  of  his  youth  is  proof  enough ;  he 
could  not  even  ring  any  changes  on  the  little  silver  bell 
which  the  French  call  wit.  But  all  the  wit  and  all  the 
sense  in  the  world  have  not,  in  the  eyes  of  young  girls 
of  nineteen,  half  the  value  of  one  grain  of  genuine  bona 
fide  passion.  The  most  distrustful  and  the  most  marble- 
hearted  of  them  all,  thinks  more  of  a  good-sized  silly 
tear  dropping  from  the  nose  of  a  man  of  heart,  than  of 
the  most  elegantly  expressed  phrases  in  the  most  beauti- 
ful and  studied  declaration. 

To  a  cool  listener,  Meo's  language  would  have  ap- 
peared not  only  absurd,  but  perhaps  even  sinful  and 
wicked.  When  a  man  without  position  and  without 
prospects  assails  a  young  girl  condemned  to  celibacy  by 
the  wish  of  her  father ;  Avhcn  he  stuns  her  ears  by  the 
violence  of  his  sentiments;  when  he  swears  that  he 
loves  her  to  madness,  and  that  he  will  die  if  he  cannot 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  73 

obtain  her  hand,  reason  bhimes  him  for  plunging  raslily 
into  a  blind  enterprise,  and  morality  severely  condemns 
him  for  dragging  into  danger  a  being  feebler  than  him- 
self. 

All  that  can  be  said  in  the  great  simpleton's  defence, 
is,  that  in  his  whole  proceeding  he  was  impelled  by  the 
instincts  of  an  honorable,  guileless,  uncalculating  nature, 
and  that  he  was  acting  Mathout  fixed  plan,  premedita- 
tion, or  forethought  of  any  kind.  Ijoving  Emma  with 
all  his  heart  and  soul,  he  simply  wanted  to  have  her  for 
his  wedded  wife,  though  how  such  a  desirable  consum- 
mation could  be  possibly  brought  about  he  neither  knew 
nor  tried  to  know.  He  rushed  headlonac,  not  knowino* 
whither,  with  all  the  impetuosity  of  an  indomitable 
temperament,  A  crow  picking  at  a  nutshell,  a  May-bug 
plumping  against  the  window-pane,  were,  in  comparison 
with  this  poor  human  creature,  strictly  responsible  and 
rigidly  logical  beings.  Into  whatever  excess  the  frenzy 
of  the  first  impulse  might  have  led  him,  a  jury  of  the 
Seven  Wise  Men  of  Greece  could  have  hardly  found 
him  guilty.  Had  he  taken  Emma  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her  up  to  the  top  of  a  mountain,  or  to  the  sixth 
story  of  a  house,  the  severest  judge  would  be  satisfied 
with  the  verdict :  "Abduction  without  malice  prepense." 

At  this  outburst  of  love,  the  young  girl  felt  like  a 

person  who  from  a  window  j)erceives  the  lava-torrents 

rushing  down  the  sides  of  a  distant  volcano.     She  was 

amazed  at  such  an  explosion  of  genuine  passion,  but, 

though  woman  is  instinctively  always  on  the  defence,  she 

did  not  consider  that  it  threatened  her  with  any  danger. 

Through  the  whole  storm  of  emotion  Meo's  noble  and 

loyal  nature  shone  out  like  a  light-house. 
7 


74  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

Agatha,  who,  not  being  quick-witted,  ought  to  have 
been  suspicious,  yielded  as  blindly  as  her  mistress. 
"  Don't  be  uneasy,  dear  cihild,"  said  she,  in  a  whisper,  to 
Emma ;  "  there 's  no  sin  in  listening  to  good  words ;  it 
is  n't  every  day  we  have  a  holiday.  While  you  listen, 
I  '11  pray  double,  so  the  dear  good  God  will  be  no 
loser." 

Meo  escorted  them  as  far  back  as  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  des  Vosges,  and  that  was  the  end  to  all  dread  of 
the  Ca])tain  or  his  thunderbolts.  From  that  moment, 
the  weeks,  hitherto  so  long,  passed  like  lightning,  in  the 
expectation  of  Sunday.  ]\Ieo  discovered  a  way  to  make 
them  still  shorter,  by  inventing  a  kind  of  correspon- 
dence. The  arcade  running  from  the  Hue  des  Vosges 
to  the  Place  Royale  is  a  famous  spot  for  play-bills. 
Every  morning  at  half  past  eleven  the  Italian  came  there, 
and,  pulling  a  pencil  out  of  his  pocket,  he  underlined 
a  printed  letter  here  and  there,  so  that  the  whole  formed 
words,  sentences,  and  quite  an  epistle  for  Emma.  Such 
a  job  requires  patience,  and  is  not  always  very  easy ;  but 
he  had  served  his  apprenticeship  at  it  in  the  days  of  his 
grand  misery,  when  he  used  to  correspond  with  his 
friends  in  Bologna  by  means  of  an  old  number  of  the 
Debats.  Emma,  walking  out  with  her  father,  naturally 
stopped  to  read  the  bills  announcing  the  amusements  of 
the  day.  What  pretext  could  the  Captain  invent  for 
refusing  her  a  gratification  so  innocent  ?  On  the  first 
bill  appeared : 

COMEDIE  FKAXgAISE. 

Jeudi,  25  mai,  1858. 

Les  comediens  ordinaires  de  I'Empereur  donneront : 

GABRIELLE. 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  76 

Emma  had  no  difficulty  in  reading  off,  Ma  joUe  (my 
pretty  one),  and  in  tlic  other  bills  she  made  out  the  rest 
of  the  letter. 

This  same  arcade  was  a  favorite  resort  for  the  Cap- 
tain himself.  He  too  cast  his  eye,  his  eagle  eye,  over 
the  play-bills  and  always  contrived  to  render  them  use- 
ful in  teaching  Emma  some  lesson  in  morality.  He 
made  her  remark  how  the  play- writers  are  reduced  to 
give  their  productions  the  most  absurd  names  for  the 
purpose  of  attracting  the  public  to  the  theatre ;  of  the 
plays  themselves  he  spoke  with  contempt,  and  assured 
her  that  the  French  nation  was  sick  of  them.  ''You 
are  very  happy  indeed,"  said  he,  "in  knowing  no  more 
of  such  stuff  than  their  titles.  Just  look  at  that.  Le 
Fils  Natiirel!  Why,  it  is  scandalous.  Le  Fruit  de- 
fendu!  Absolutely  immoral.  La  joie  fait -peur  !  What 
wretched  nonsense  !  Les  Lionnes  pauvres  !  What  does 
all  that  consist  of?  Why,  ridiculous  stories  without 
head  or  tail,  and  even  indecencies  very  probably.  The 
rabble  that  write  such  trash  don't  earn  enough  to  keep 
body  and  soul  together,  and  I  'm  glad  of  it.  Are  you 
coming?"  Emma,  who  had  got  through  her  reading, 
touched  the  corner  of  the  last  bill  with  the  dusty  tip  of 
her  parasol,  and  the  light  mark  showed  Meo  that  his 
letter  had  reached  its  destination.  How  the  Captain 
would  have  sworn  if  he  had  even  suspected  that  the 
very  daughter  he  guarded  so  carefully  was  actually  cor- 
responding with  her  lover,  and  that  too  even  before  his. 
own  eyes ! 

Towards  the  end  of  June,  Emma  had  become  so  de- 
cidedly captivated  that  her  only  thought  henceforth  was 
Meo.     All  her  ideas  ran  on  him,  every  nerve  iu  her 


76  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

heart  beat  for  liira.  The  brilliant  Italian  had  become 
in  her  eyes  a  sort  of  demigod.  She  knew  neither  his 
birth,  his  rank,  nor  his  fortune;  but  it  is  when  we  know 
the  least  that  Ave  love  the  best.  Had  Meo  been  one  of 
those  unscrupulous  lovers  who  consider  everything  they 
find  in  their  net  as  their  own,  the  poor,  innocent,  mother- 
less girl  would  have  no  more  resisted  him  than  the  women 
of  mythology  resisted  Jupiter.  But  the  honest  fellow 
no  more  thought  of  even  pressing  her  hand  than  you  do 
of  plucking  to  pieces  a  beautiful  rose,  or  of  crushing 
between  your  fingers  the  amber  calyx  of  a  magnolia. 
Accordingly,  this  secret  and  very  imprudent  intercourse 
■was  of  an  ideal  purity.  Chance  and  sympathy  had 
wedded  two  hearts,  but  it  was  like  one  of  those  unions 
which  diplomacy  used  to  effect  long  ago  between  two 
royal  children  still  in  their  infancy. 

Stout  Agatha,  however,  with  her  good  home-spun 
common-sense,  said  to  them  from  time  to  time,  "  All 
this  is  very  fair  and  good,  but  what  is  it  all  to  end  in  ? 
You  must  marry  some  time  or  other,  and  Master  will 
never  give  his  consent." 

''  How  do  you  know  that  ?  "  replied  Meo.  "  He  does 
not  know  who  I  am.  I  've  a  strong  notion  of  going 
into  the  house  with  vou  and  asking  his  consent.  If  he 
refuses  me,  I  shall  be  very  much  surprised,  indeed." 

But  Emma  screamed  with  horror  at  such  a  proposi- 
tion, and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

One  morning  Meo  said  to  them,  "  I  have  my  idea. 
We  shall  enter  the  church  together,  and  go  straight  to 
a  priest.  I  shall  say  to  him,  '.This  is  my  wife ! '  and 
you  will  add,  *'  This  is  my  husband  ! '  He  wall  give  us 
his  blessing  anyhow.     Such  a  thing  is  often  done  in 


THE     PLAY-BILLS.  77 

Italy."  Emma  did  not  exactly  say  no,  but  Agatha 
assured  them  that  such  a  marriage  would  be  good  for 
nothino;  in  France. 

Another  day,  Agatha  informed  the  lovers  that  they 
were  rich.  She  had  been  counting  up  M.  Bitterlin's 
income.  His  yearly  pension  was  eighteen  hundred 
francs;  his  inheritance  brought  him  two  thousand 
francs  a  year ;  Emma's  mother's  dowry  was  the  regu- 
lar twelve  hundred  francs  a  year,  without  which  no 
woman  is  permitted  to  marry  a  captain ;  in  short,  the 
total  income  was  about  five  thousand  francs  ($1000)  a 
year,  and  the  Captain  had  been  saving  at  least  two  thou- 
sand francs  a  year  since  1848. 

"What  of  that?"  said  Meo.  "I  don't  want  any 
money." 

"  You  have  enough  of  your  own  then  ?"  asked  Agatha. 

"  No ;  but  I  don't  want  any." 

"  It  i^  true,"  added  Emma.  "  What  is  the  use  of 
money  ?  I  've  never  had  any  money,  and  what  have  I 
been  the  worse  for  it  ?  " 

Meo,  in  France,  now  began  to  study  the  laws  —  in  his 
own  country  he  had  helped  to  make  them.  He  turned 
over  the  "Thirty-Seven  Codes"  in  a  reading-room. 
He  learned  from  this  investigation  that  Emma  could 
marry  without  her  father's  consent,  but  not  before  she 
had  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  had  thrice 
respectfully  demanded  permission.  He  thought  it  too 
lono;  to  wait.  Emma  wished  to  examine  the  same  sub- 
ject  herself,  and  with  her  own  little  hands  she  carefully 
rummaged  throuo-h  her  father's  law-books.  She  dis- 
covered  that  her  happiness  absolutely  depended  on  the 
Captain  for  two  years  and  some  months  longer. 
7* 


78  ROUGE    ET    XOIR. 

This  gloomy  prospect  inspired  her  witli  <in  heroic 
resolution.  Without  consulting  any  one,  she  seriously 
sought  an  audience  with  the  master  of  her  destiny,  and 
said  to  him,  with  her  own  little  air  of  decision : 

"  My  dear  father,  I  'ra  in  love." 

"  Just  like  you  !  "  roared  the  Captain.  "  Who  the 
d— " 

"  I  'ni  in  love  with  a  young  man  that  you  will  like 
very  much  yourself  as  soon  as  you  see  him,  and  whom 
J  will  present  to  you  if  you  promise  to  do  him  no  harm. 
Ever  since  the  month  of  April  we  have  been  meeting 
each  other,  and  corresponding  together.  He  has  my 
promise,  and  I  have  his;  the  only  thing  we  want  is 
your  consent.  If  I  were  not  your  submissive  and"  re- 
s))ectful  child,  I  would  wait  till  I  came  of  age,  and  then 
get  married  without  your  consent  with  no  other  doAvry 
than  my  mother's  twenty-four  thousand  francs  — " 

"  Some  rascally  lawyer  has  been  giving  you  a  lesson  !  " 

"No  indeed,  ray  dear  little  papa;  I  have  seen  it  all 
in  your  own  law-books.  But  I  don't  want  to  vex  you 
in  any  respect,  so  I  entreat  you,  in  the  name  of  all  your 
kindness  for  me  and  of  my  love  for  you,  to  let  me  marry 
my  lover  as  soon  as  possible." 

The  Captain  had  laid  it  down  as  a  maxim  that  chil- 
dren should  be  treated  with  mildness,  and  he  severely 
condemned  anything  like  corporal  punishment;  but  this 
time  his  anger  got.the  better  of  his  principles.  The  poor 
child  received  a  pair  of  cuffs  on  the  ear  that  you  would 
almost  think  were  too  much  for  a  blundering  errand-boy. 
An  hour  later,  Agatha  was  flying  down  stairs  without 
counting  the  steps.  The  Captain  nearly  died  of  apo- 
plexy, and  perhaps  he  really  would  have  started  for  the 


THE    PLAY-KILLS.  79 

otlier  world,  only  he  was  afraid    his  departure  miglit 
make  some  people  happy  in  this. 

Agatha  entered  straight  into  Meo's  service,  to  dust 
the  few  pictures  that  were  still  left,  and  to  hunt  up  news 
about  Emma.  Her  flight  had  been  so  hasty  that  she 
found  in  her  trunk' collars,  sleeves,  wristbands,  and  all 
sorts  of  things  belonging  to  her  mistress.  She  w^ould 
have  restored  them  to  the  owner,  even  at  the  risk  of 
having  her  bones  broken,  if  the  Italian  had  not  imme- 
diately seized  them  and  made  them  his  own,  like  cer- 
tain pious  devotees  who  have  no  scruple  in  stealing 
whatever  relics  they  can  lay  their  hands  on.  He  would 
not  even  give  up  the  big  house-key,  though  it  was  a 
pound  or  two  in  weight,  but,  wrapping  it  up  with  the 
other  treasures,  he  placed  it  next  his  heart,  and  kept  it 
there  religiously  night  and  day. 

It  is  not  without  some  show  of  reason  that  the  Paris- 
ians compare  the  Marais  to  a  little  country  town.  The 
whole  quarter  rang  with  M.  Bitterlin's  resentment. 
The  good  creatures  told  each  other  how  the  Captain  had 
left  his  daughter  for  dead,  and  flung  the  servant  out  of 
the  window.  They  insisted  that  poor  Agatha  had  broken 
her  leg  from  the  fall,  and  those  who  had  seen  her  go  off 
limping  were  ready  to  swear  to  the  fact  in  a  court  of 
justice.  Everybody  was  interested  in  Emma's  unhappy 
fate,  because  she  was  pretty.  On  the  other  hand,  tine 
Captain's  sour  visage  had  never  excited  much  sympathy 
among  his  neighbors,  and  more  than  one  mother  used 
to  say  to  her  children,  "  If  you  're  not  good,  I  '11  just  go 
bring  in  M.  Bitterlin."  No  housekeeper,  no  servant 
was  willing  to  succeed  Agatha  and  expose  herself  to  the 
same  danger ;  even  the  old  porter  and  his  wife  almost 


80  R  O  U  G  K     E  T     N  O  I  R  . 

refused  their  services,  and  grumbled  sullenly  as  they 
made  the  beds.  The  keeper  of  a  little  restaurant  in  the 
Place  Roy  ale  consented  to  send  cooked  provisions  to  the 
ogre's  well-known  den,  but  the  waiter  who  carried  them 
covered  up  in  a  basket,  used  to  look  at  the  Captain  pretty 
much  as  people  look  at  the  common  hangman. 

A  fortnight  passed  without  M.  Bitterlin  and  his 
daughter  ever  being  seen  together.  The  Avindows  were 
opened  every  morning  and  evening,  but  nothing  ap- 
peared there  except  the  Captain's  surly  countenance. 
The  report  ran  that  the  pretty  girl  of  the  Rue  des  Vosges 
■was  locked  up  in  a  black  hole,  and  that  she  should  never 
come  out  again  except  feet  foremost. 

Such  reports,  of  course,  had  greatly  exaggerated 
Emma's  sufferings.  Still,  it  must  be  said  that  she  was 
neither  very  free  nor  very  hapjiy.  Torn  from  her  only 
friend,  deprived  of  the  sight  of  the  man  whom  she  loved, 
shut  up  within  four  walls,  the  penance  she  underwent 
was  decidedly  very  severe.  Her  father  could  never 
pardon  her  for  the  ridiculous  part  he  had  been  playing. 
Tliis  man,  bursting  with  pride  and  self-confidence,  struck 
his  wig  angrily  with  his  clenched  fists,  wdienever  he 
thought  how  a  little  goose  of  a  girl,  and  a  half-witted 
creature  from  the  country,  had  disconcerted  all  his  deep- 
laid  plans  of  precaution.  He  foamed  at  the  idea  that  a 
man  had  succeeded  in  winning  the  affections  of  a  girl  so 
.well  watched,  and  thence  he  drew  the  sage  conclusion 
that  his  wife,  a  thousand  times  less  strictly  guarded,  had 
had  it  a  thousand  times  in  her  power  to  dishonor  him. 
Perhaps  he  would  have  been  a  little  niore  indulgent  if 
his  daughter  had  made  a  full,  detailed  acknowledgment 
of  her  fault;  but  P]mma,  seeing  how  her  sincerity  had 


THE    PLAY-BIT, LS.  81 

been  rewarded,  bad  intrencbed  berself  In  an  obstinate 
silence.  The  Captain  swore  Ihat  tbere  sbe  sbould  stay 
in  close  confinement,  without  as  much  as  approaching 
the  window,  until  she  should  bave  made  a  clean  breast 
of  all  her  misdemeanors  and  told  the  name  of  her  ac- 
complice. She  swore  in  her  turn,  with  an  air  of  mutiny 
that  left  no  doubt  of  her  sincerity,  that  as  long  as  sbe 
was  kept  a  prisoner  sbe  would  not  utter  a  word. 

The  two  adversaries  faced  each  other  for  seventeen 
days,  neither  yielding  the  other  an  inch.  It  will  be 
hard  to  believe  that  such  a  warm-hearted,  affectionate 
little  creature  was  able  to  hold  out  seventeen  days  and 
seventeen  nights  without  uttering  a  single  word,  and 
that  too  in  her  father's  company ;  but  Emma  was  the 
Captain's  own  daughter,  a  chip  of  the  old  block.  She 
lost  her  color,  grew  thin,  sickened ;  in  the  depths  of  her 
heart  she  cherished  the  deadly  but  beloved  flame  that 
was  preying  upon  her  life ;  but  she  never  once  relaxed 
from  her  plan  of  obstinate  silence. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  July,  the  Captain  double-locked 
up  his  daughter  and  went  down  stairs  to  pay  his 
quarter's  rent.  This  was  a  duty  which  he  fulfilled  every 
three  months  with  military  exactness,  at  a  quarter  of 
twelve  to  the  minute.  The  landlord  was  a  mild  and 
timid  man  who,  in  1848,  had  collected  more  tricolored 
flags  than  five-franc  pieces.  He  entertained  a  profound 
respect  for  M.  Bitterlin  as  being  the  most  punctual 
and  the  most  exacting  of  all  his  tenants.  Whenever 
the  Captain  came  to  complain  about  smoky  chimneys 
or  tiu'eatenlng  ceilings,  his  smile  and  his  reply  were 
invariable :    "  Let  it  be  fixed   exactly  as   you    please. 

Tonnerre  !     Who  could  think  of  refusing  repairs  to  a 

F 


82  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

tenant  with  as  hot  a  temper  as  yours?"  But  this  time 
the  smile  had  given  way  to  a  more  serious  expression. 
He  looked  the  Captain  right  into  the  eyes,  and  said, 
almost  severely : 

"  May  I  dare  to  ask  how  is'your  daughter?" 

His  tenant  answered  in  a  tone  which  admitted  of  no 
reply: 

"  My  daughter  is  just  as  I  want  her  to  be." 

And,  without  waiting  for  his  change,  he  left  the  room. 
But  the  landlord  followed  him,  murmuring  very  audi- 
bly something  about  the  abuse  of  paternal  power,  scan- 
dalous tyranny,  the  public  opinion,  the  displeasure  of 
the  neiglibors,  the  possible  intervention  of  justice,  and 
the  "wcll-known  sentence  lately  pronounced  against  a 
couple  who  had  ill-treated  the  children  of  a  former  mar- 
riage. The  Captain  pretended  not  to  hear,  but  he  felt 
very  uneasy  by  the  time  he  reached  his  own  door. 

The  porter  ran  up  stairs  after  him  with  an  anony- 
mous letter,  written  to  him  in  the  name  of  all  the  in- 
habitants of  the  quarter.  The  unknown  cori'espondent 
called  him  Father  Blue-Beard,  and  ordered  him  to  show 
his  daughter  at  the  window,  if  he  had  not  murdered  her. 
Furious,  he  tore  the  paper  to  pieces,  and  swore  he  would 
quit  the  accursed  spot  forever  in  three  months. 

But  this  was  not  the  end  of  his  surprises.  At  four 
o'clock  he  received  a  visit  from  a  doctor  well  known 
and  highly  respected  in  the  Ilarais,  the  very  one  who 
had  cured  Emma  of  some  slight  indispositions,  and  had 
attended  Madame  Bitterlin  in  her  last  illness. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  laying  aside  his  cane,  "it  seems  my 
pretty  little  patient  wants  me  again  ?  I  hope  in  good- 
ness you  are  exaggerating  the  thing." 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  83 

"  What  thing  ?  "  stararaered  the  Captain,  turning  as 
red  as  a  tomato.     "  Who  went  after  you  ?  " 

"  Have  n't  you  sent  your  servant  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Not  at  all  —  or  rather,  yes,  of  course  —  I  'm 
very  much  obliged  to  you,  Doctor." 

"  Oh  !  I  see.  The  patient  has  recovered  without  the 
permission  of  the  Faculty.  Young  people  are  so  irreg- 
ular.    She  is  gone  out,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  that  is  to  say,  no.  Do  you  want  to  see  her  ? 
She's  no  prisoner,  I  assure  you.  I  have  no  objection 
to  her  seeing  as  much  as  she  pleases  of  people  of  the 
right  kind.  Indeed,  you  '11  be  an  invaluable  doctor  if 
you  only  succeed  in  loosening  her  tongue." 

"Ah!  that's  it,  eh?  Well,  we  must  see  about  it. 
But  what  is  the  matter  with  yourself.  Captain  ?  I  have 
seen  you  look  much  better.  Believe  me,  and  get  your- 
self bled  some  of  these  days.  No  hurry,  of  course.  But 
it's  a  useful  precaution  when  one's  cravat  is  rather 
short." 

The' Captain  was  choking  with  rage.  Had  not  the 
morning's  experiences  rendered  him  somewhat  watchful 
over  himself,  he  would  assuredly  have  thrust  the  poor 
Doctor  out  of  the  house.  He  opened  Emma's  door,  how- 
ever, and  said,  quite  gently  : 

"  There 's  the  young  lady  ;  you  can  testify  that  she  is 
not  dead." 

The  Doctor  was  no  more  in  the  confidence  of  the  vic- 
tims than  he  was  an  accomplice  of  their  executioner. 
He  had  simply  come  to  see  Emma  because  stout  Agatha 
had  o-one  to  tell  him  that  his  presence  was  demanded 
immediately.  But  he  was  not  long  in  scenting  one  of 
those  domestic  dramas  that  are  played  every  day  with- 


84  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

out  witnesses  in  all  the  corners  of  Paris.  He  thought 
that  Einnia  was  seriously  changed  for  the  Avorse,  though 
neither  tongue  nor  pulse  spoke  of  any  disease  properly 
so  called.  He  remarked  that  the  father  and  daughter 
avoided  speaking  to  each  other  and  addressed  him  alone. 
A  secret  irritation  betrayed  itself  in  every  word,  and 
their  eyes  gleamed  with  a  strange  fire.  The  girl's  looks 
expressed  at  once  sufi'ering,  mutiny,  and  an  earnest  de- 
sire for  foreign  assistance.  He  had  a  high  idea  of  the 
duties  of  his  profession.  He  thought  that  doctors  are 
put  into  the  world  for  something  besides  enriching 
apothecaries.  Without  pretending  then  to  meddle  in 
family  secrets,  he  began  making  up  in  his  mind  some 
l)rescription  which  he  thought  miglit  improve  the  moral 
liealth  both  of  father  and  daughter.  Emma  was  deeply 
moved  by  the  interest  he  took  in  her  condition,  and  per- 
haps she  would  have  even  asked  his  aid,  if  doing  so 
would  not  at  the  same  time  necessarily  compel  her  to 
divuloe  the  secret  of  her  heart. 

"Have  you  been  suffering  long,  my  child?"  asked 
the  Doctor  in  a  paternal  tone. 

"  But,  Doctor,  I  swear  to  you  there  is  no  suffering  in 
the  case  at  all,"  replied  the  Captain,  hastily. 

"  You  are  told  the  truth,  Doctor.     I  am  not  at  all 
sick.     A  little  sad,  that  is  all." 

"  Yes,  we  have  the  vapors,"  added  the  Captain. 
"  ]\Iy  life  is  not  made  very  pleasant  here." 
"  We  don't  deserve  premiums  for  good  conduct." 
"  I  'm  never  let  out  of  the  house,  and  watched  wdiile 
I  'm  in  it." 

"  We  used  to  make  a  bad  use  of  our  liberty." 

"  It  is  easy  to  find  fault  with  those  we  don't  love." 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  85 

"  "When  we  want  people  to  love  us,  we  conduct  our- 
selves properly." 

"  Some  people  are  very  unreasonable." 

"  Some  people  are  very  stubborn." 

This  was  tlie  tone  of  the  consultation  for  several  min- 
utes. The  Doctor  put  an  end  to  it  by  taking  leave  of 
his  little  patient. 

''  Come,  come,"  said  he.  "  This  all  proceeds  from 
the  nerves :  rely  on  me,  Mademoiselle  Emma.  Cap- 
tain, you  've  done  well  to  call  nle.  Let  us  go  into  your 
room ;  I  want  to  compose  a  prescription  which  is  to 
cure  the  whole  family." 

When  they  were  alone,  the  Doctor  resumed : 

"  Your  daughter  is  not  sick." 

"  Well,  what  did  I  tell  you?" 

"  Wait  a  minute.     She  's  not  sick,  but  she  may  die." 

"  You  're  trifling." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Can  you  tell  me  the  name  of  the 
illness  that  killed  her  mother?  No.  Neither  can  I. 
Women  are  not  like  soldiers ;  bullets  and  bayonets  are 
not  necessary  to  kill  them.  They  sometimes  die  off 
before  our  faces,  and  we  should  be  sadly  puzzled  if  we 
Avere  required  to  tell  why.  Your  daughter  is  just  as 
delicate  as  her  mother.  Her  state  demands  the  most 
exceeding  care  and  attention." 

"  Why,  Doctor,  she  gets  attention  enough  !  For  more 
than  two  weeks  past  we  have  n't  set  foot  once  outside  the 
house." 

"  So  much  the  worse.  Of  all  nutriments,  air  is  the 
most  necessary.  Youth  requires  plenty  of  it,  and  of  ex- 
ercise too.  Add  to  this  a  good  dose  of  recreation,  pleas- 
ure, fun.     The  ancients  believed  that  laughter  was  good 


86  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 


» 


for  the  liver.  In  any  case  it  can  do  no  harm.  I  don't 
know  your  intentions  well  enough  to  speak  to  you  of  a 
certain  heroic  remedy  which  more  than  one  of  my  con- 
fnres  would  order  without  hesitation.  Your  answer 
would  be  that  even  a  collier  is  master  in  his  own  house. 
I  am  very  delicate  about  interfering  in  other  people's 
business,  even  if  they  are  ray  patients.  When  the  son 
says  yes,  and  the  father  says  no,  I  say  nothing,  but  take 
up  my  hat  and  go  away.  That's  something  not  in  my 
line.  But  questions  of  health  and  diet  are  the  very 
mainspring  of  our  art.  It  is  only  our  dnty  to  tell  the 
father  of  a  family  that  a  young  creature  of  nineteen,  de- 
prived of  air,  of  exercise,  of  society,  of  amusement,  is  in 
great  danger  of  going  out  some  fine  morning  as  effect- 
ually as  the  light  of  a  lamp  does  under  the  receiver  of 
an  air-pump." 

The  Captain  scratched  his  head  in  visible  embarrass- 
ment. 

"Doctor,"  he  said,  "you  have  known  me  for  a  long 
time.  You  know  that  I  am  not  at  heart  a  bad  man. 
What  am  I  to  do?" 

"  Almost  nothing.  Merely  to  understand  that  a  girl 
as  delicate  as  your  daughter  can  not  be  disciplined  Avith 
the  rod  like  a  Russian  soldier.  You  have  the  means 
of  amusing  her.     Take  her  to  plays,  to  balls  —  " 

"  Never !  never !  " 

"  You  're  puritanical ;  well,  let  that  pass.  Take  her 
to  visit  respectable  families." 

"  Are  there  any  ?  " 

"  You  're  a  misanthropist ;  very  well,  let  that  pass, 
too.  Talce  her  out  walking  every  day  through  the  city. 
Show  her  the  places  of  resort,  the  Chavtj^s- Ely  sees,  the 
Hois  de  Boulor/nc,  the  Pre  Catdan,  —  any  place!" 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  87 


"Stop  there,  Doctor.  I  have  my  reasons  —  cogent 
reasons,  you  understand  —  to  mistrust  such  places.  She 
has  seen  too  much  of  them  ah*eady,  the  unfortunate  crea- 
ture !     Oh  !  these  Parisums  !  "   ^ 

"  You  're  afraid  of  the  Parisians  ?     Take  her  to  the 
country,  tlien,  —  to  Germany,  to  China !  " 
)     "  As  to  that  —  a  nice  trip  to  somewhere  far  from  here, 
very  far.     Look  here.  Doctor,  if  I  were  a  rich  man,  I 
wouki  set  off  this  very  evening." 

"  Oil !  everybody  is  rich  enough  to  travel  now,  since 
railroads  have  come  into  fashion.  I  leave  you  to  your 
reflections. .  Good  -  bye,  for  a  while.  Captain.  Keep 
cool,  get  bled,  take  your  daughter  out,  and  remember 
that  the  dearest  of  all  trips  is  the  journey  to  the  grave- 
yaixl." 

During  all  this  time  Mco  had  been  runniup;  throu2;h 
the  streets  of  Paris,  totally  unable  to  keep  still.  Some 
men  want  to  see  everything  and  superintend  everything, 
as  if  the  mere  fact  of  their  presence  could  have  the  slight- 
est effect  on  destiny.  One  of  this  class  is  always  present 
in  his  wife's  chamber  at  the  moment  an  interestintr 
arrival  is  expected,  or  behind  the  scenes  during  the  first 
representation  of  his  great  drama,  or  beside  the  ballot- 
box  while  they  are  counting  how  many  votes  he  has  got 
for  the  office  he  is  running  for.  Others,  on  the  contrary, 
on  such  occasions,  run  away  from  their  houses  like  mad- 
men, and  have  not  the  courage  to  come  back  for  fear  of 
learning  their  fate.  It  was  to  this  second  class  that 
Meo  belonged.  He  had  sent  Agatha  for  the  Doctor,  but 
he  was  too  uneasy  to  wait  to  hear  the  result  of  his  visit. 
At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  instead  of  returning  to 
his  lodgings  and    finding  it  all  out   from  Agatha,  he 


88  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

paced  all  the  streets  ia  the  neigliborhood  of  the  Rue  des 
Vosgcs.  The  street-boys,  seeing  him  running-  wildly 
backwards  and  forwards  with  a  bewildered  countenance, 
miciht  have  asked  him  if  he  hadn't  missed  the  omnibus. 
Old  habit  led  him  to  the  arcade  of  the  Place  Iloyale, 
where  he  had  written  so  many  pretty  letters  to  Emma 
on  the  play-bills.  He  was  very  much  surprised  at  see- 
ing a  little  man  there  before  him,  the  very  image  of  the 
Captain.  If  it  was  not  himself,  it  certainly  was  his 
shadow.  The  shadow  was  standing  close  to  the  wall, 
pocket-book  in  hand,  and  copying  a  bill.  Meo  asked 
himself  for  a  lon«:  time  what  sudden  interest  M.  Bitterlin 
could  have  taken  in  dramatic  litei'ature.  He  watched 
his  man  closely,  and  as  soon  as  the  coast  was  clear  he 
ran  up  to  investigate.  The  first  object  that  struck  his 
eyes  was  an  immense  yellow  poster  lying  a  short  dis- 
tance beyond  the  last  play-bill.  He  first  made  sure  that 
it  was  here  the  enemy  had  halted.  A  cigar-stump,  which 
he  had  seen  drop  out  of  the  Captain's  mouth,  was  still 
burning  between  two  stones,  and  made  it  quite  certain 
that  that  was  the 'spot.  He  read  then,  with  an  emotion 
such  as  poem  nor  romance  had  ever  inspired  him  with, 
an  advertisement  of  the  Eastern  Railroad,  which  com-, 
nienced  as  follows : 

Grand  Excursion  to  Switzerland,  the  Rhine, 
THE  Grand-Duchy  of  Baden,  etc.,  etc. 

TicJcets  good  for  One  Ilonth,  with  the  Privilege  of  stopping 
at  all  the  Principal  Stations,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

Once  through  his  reading,  he  was  no  longer  afraid  of 
returning  home ;  indeed  he  dashed  off  at  full  speed  and 


THE    PLAY-BILLS.  89 

never  pulled  up  until  he  came  to  the  door,  where  he 
found  Agatha  awaiting  him. 

"  Sir/'  said  she,  "  I  have  been  watching  the  Doctor 
as  he  came  out,  and  it  is  little  I  have  got  for  my  pains. 
I  asked  him  what  was  the  matter  with  Mademoiselle. 
'  Not  much,''  said  he,  '  and  after  she  has  taken  a  little 
trip  somewhere,  it  will  be  just  nothing  at  all.'  Just  as 
if  the  Captain  w^ould  let  her  go  on  any  little  trip  !  Oh  ! 
but  he 's  a  close  one,  the  Captain  !  " 

"  But  I  know  already,"  said  INIeo,  "  that  he  is  think- 
ing of  taking  her  to  Switzerland.  You  just  find  out 
w:hen  they  are  to  start,  and  what  route  they  will  take. 
Also  if  they  travel  first-class.  I  must  make  sure  of  all 
that,  you  know,  before  purchasing  my  ticket." 

"  You  're  going  on  the  trip,  too,  my  kind  young  gen- 
tleman ?     And  what  for  ?  " 

"To  see  her,  in  the  first  place;  then  to  get  acquainted 
with  the  Captain,  earn  his  friendship,  and  obtain  his 
daughter's  hand.  Do  you  think,  then,  that  a  good,  bold 
dash  won't  win  the  battle  ?  " 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  sir,  if  you  don't  obtain  Mademoi- 
selle's hand,  I  shall  be  very  much  astonished  at  you ;  but 
if  you  ever  do  so  with  the  Captain's  consent,  I  shall  be 
very  much  astonished  at  him." 
8* 


90  ROUGE    ET    NOIE. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   EIGHTH   PASSENGER. 

ON  the  twentieth  of  July,  at  half-past  seven  in  the 
evenino;,  M.  Bitterlin  and  his  dauQ-hter  were  rollingr 
along  in  a  hack  towards  the  terminus  of  the  Eastern 
Railroad.  As  they  ascended  the  Boulevard  de  Scbasto- 
pol,  the  Captain  tried  to  look  as  gracious  as  possible, 
and  said  to  Emma : 

"Now  you're  going  to  have  a  very  nice  trip  indeed, 
so  I  hoi^c  you  will  learn  how  to  behave  yourself.  I  'm 
very  good,  you  see,  and  I  want  to  show  you  Switzerland, 
the  Grand-Duchy  of  Baden,  and  Strasburg,  where  I  per- 
formed garrison  duty  before  you  were  born.  We  shall 
spend  a  month  at  Luneville ;  I  will  show  you  the  gar- 
den and  the  castle ;  I  Avill  also  show  you  the  humble 
roof  beneath  which  your  father  first  saw  the  light.  As 
we  come  back,  I  may  treat  you  to  a  visit  to  the  camp  at 
Chalons,  provided  of  course  that  in  the  mean  time  you 
have  been  good  enough  to  deserve  it.  Show  me  some 
return  for  all  this  kindness  by  your  exemplary  conduct, 
I  shall  never  regret  the  money  you  cost  me  if  you  only 
go  right  straight  on,  without  looking  to  the  right  or  left 
at  any  of  the  conceited  puppies  that  may  be  around  you. 
Begin  at  once,  then,  and  stop  putting  your  head  out  of 
the  window  at  the  very  moment  that  your  father  does 
you  the  honor  of  addressing  you." 

Emma  commenced  her  tour  to  Switzerland  pretty 
much  as  cowardly  soldiers  face  their  first  fire  —  at  every 
step  they  take,  casting  a  wistful  glance  to  the  rear.     It 


THE     EIGHTH     PASSENGER.  91 

was  now  more  than  twenty  days  since  she  had  heard 
from  Meo,  and  she  imagined  that  Meo  was  equally  in 
the  dark  about  her.  Hence  her  profound  dejection, 
which  only  grew  more  intense  as  every  turn  of  the 
wheels  took  her  farther  and  farther  from  home.  She 
was  yielding  to  her  father's  iron  will  from  sheer  exhaus- 
tion, for  women's  strongest  resolutions  always  falter  at 
the  second  determined  attack;  but  as  the  carriage  rolled 
on,  she  was  addressing  mentally  the  wildest  and  most 
desperate  appeals  to  all  the  powers  of  earth  and  heaven. 

The  earth,  however,  did  not  open  and  swallow  up  the 
wheels,  and  heaven  dropped  no  aerolite  right  on  the 
crown  of  the  driver's  glazed  hat.  So  great  is  the  indif- 
ference of  Nature  towards  the  sight  of  our  miseries,  that 
actually  the  Captain  and  his  daughter,  with  all  their 
trunks  and  band-boxes,  reached  the  terminus  without 
the  slightest  accident. 

Emma  shot  on£  searching  glance  through  the  four 
corners  of  the  waiting-room ;  but  nothing  prominent 
met  her  eye  except  an  old  English  lady's  set  of  teeth. 
Up  to  the  very  last  moment  she  expected  to  see  the 
hurried  entrance  of  some  providence  in  a  traveller's 
overcoat,  some  D.eu8  ex  machina  wrapped  up  in  a  plaid  ; 
but  that  was  all  she  got  by  her  expectations.  The  bell 
rang,  the  doors  glided  back  in  their  grooves,  the  Cap- 
tain seized  his  umbrellas ;  it  was  time  to  get  into  the 
carriages. 

M.  Bitterlin,  who  had  had  some  experience  in  travel- 
ling, at  once  elbowed  his  Avay  vigorously  through  the 
crowd,  and,  followed  by  his  daughter,  flung  himself  into 
a  compartment  of  the  first  class.  He  was  scarcely  well 
in  when  he  threw  up  fortifications  as  well  as  he  could 


92  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

hy  sliutfciiig  the  door  and  letting  down  the  blinds: 
that's  what  you  do,  you  know,  when  you  aspire  to 
travel  by  yourself.  But  a  very  nimble  young  married 
couple,  from  Germany,  on  their  bridal  trip,  dashed  up  the 
steps  and  took  possession  of  the  other  two  vacant  corners. 
The  Captain  was  seated  opposite  Emma,  and  the  bride- 
groom opposite  his  blooming  bride.  A  moment  after, 
two  red-headed  men,  the  one  tall  and  lank,  tlie  other 
short  and  stout,  pitched  after  each  other  head-foremost 
into  the  carriage.  The  tall  one,  who  was  a  little  ahead, 
planted  himself  down  on  Emma's  dress,  tramping  on 
the  Captain's  tenderest  corn  as  he  passed  by.  The  stout 
one  sat  down  beside  him  on  the  same  seat,  and  almost 
squeezed  the  life  out  of  the  plump  little  German  bride 
sitting  in  the  corner  opposite  her  husband.  The  Cap- 
tain must  certainly  have  laid  in  a  good  stock  of  pa- 
tience, for,  at  all  this  he  only  growled  and  swore  a 
little  under  his  teeth.  But  a  new  arrival,  a  young,  good- 
looking  fellow,  exceedingly  well  dressed,  now  came  in, 
and  sat  down  beside  him  on  the  right  skirt  of  his  over- 
coat, humming  all  the  time  a  snatch  from  II  Trovatore: 

"  Saved !  saved !    O  Providence  Divine  1 
I  thank  tliee,  for  at  last, 
All  doubt  and  danger  past, 
Now  for  evermore  pure  happiness  is  mine!" 

"  Sir !  "  cried  the  Captain,  turning  up  his  moustache, 
"  so  far  I  have  borne  everything  patiently,  but  this  caps 
the  climax ! " 

"  What  climax,  my  dear  sir?"  asked  the  new-comer. 

"  Why  could  you  not  have  gone  into  another  com- 
partment, sir  ?     Don't  you  see  we  're  sweltering  here  ?  " 


THE    EIGHTH    PASSENGER.  93 

"  So  much  the  better,  sir ;  the  nights  are  rather  cool." 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  employes  opened  the 
door,  saying : 

"  Five,  six,  seven  ;  one  seat  more !  This  way,  gen- 
tlemen, if  you  please!  " 

The  Captain  started  up  with  a  jump,  exclaiming: 

"  Sir,  this  is  intolerable !  I  have  come  into  a  first- 
class  carriage  to  be  alone  with  my  daughter,  and  here 
you  pack  us  on  each  other  like  herrings  in  a  barrel !  " 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir.  In  this  compartment  there 
are  eight  seats." 

"  But,  sir,  if  you  stow  eight  in  here,  what  shall  we  do 
with  our  legs  ?  " 

"Sir,  we  have  a  good  many  passengers  in  this  train 
for  Mulhouse,  and  we  are  obliged  to  supply  them  all 
with  seats." 

"  In  that  case,  put  on  another  carriage." 

"  Oh,  sir,  if  we  listened  to  what  everybody  says  on 
the  subject,  each  traveller  should  have  a  carriage  for 
himself." 

"  The  devil,  sir  !  I  'm  not  everybody.  It  is  possible 
that  my  name  has  never  reached  you,  but  I  am  Captain 
Bitterlin." 

"  Sir,  if  you  were  even  Marshal  Gi^rard,  I  could  n't 
give  you  a  compartment  all  to  yourself."  And  he  con- 
tinued in  a  louder  key  :  "  This  way,  gentlemen  !  One 
seat  this  wa}'- !  " 

An  eighth  passenger  now  craned  his  neck  into  the 
doorway,  and  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin  uttered  a  little 
scream. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  child,"  said  her  father;  "I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  bear  everything.     I  '11  be  calm  1 " 


94  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

Emma  wasn't  afraid;  quite  the  contrary.  She  had 
recognized  tlie  eighth  passenger. 

The  whistle  blew,  and  the  train  started.  Emma's 
eyes  and  those  of  Meo  commenced  a  dialogue  that  was 
to  last  as  far  as  Basel.  The  two  red-headed  men  pulled 
each  out  of  his  pocket  a  paper  as  big  as  a  bed-quilt. 
The  one  opened  the  Times,  the  other  the  Neid  York 
Herald,  and  each  manoeuvred  so  skilfully  as  to  cut  the 
other  completely  off  from  the  little  light  that  was  still 
left.  The  nimble  young  German  couple,  who  formed 
pendants  to  the  Captain  and  his  daughter,  whispered, 
took  each  other's  hands,  looked  into  the  white  of  each 
other's  eyes,  and  every  five  minutes  or  so  exchanged  an 
amorous  smile,  deep,  artless,  and  transcendently  tender. 
The  Captain  and  his  neighbor  were  soon  fast  asleep. 
This  neighbor  was  a  stout,  good-humored  young  fellow, 
one  of  those  that  can  live  in  Paris  without  having  any- 
thing to  do.  He  was  going  to  gamble  away  all  his 
ready  money  at  Baden,  and  he  took  the  longest  route 
to  get  there,  considering  everything  spent  on  the  road  as 
so  much  gained.  He  had  been  dining  well  before  en- 
tering the  carriage,  and  he  was  now  enjoying  that  sound 
sleep  wdiich  is  the  reward  of  having  a  good  stomach. 
The  Captain,  after  honoring  him  with  the  reception  al- 
ready mentioned,  had  grown  so  accustomed  to  his  pres- 
ence, that  he  was  now  leaning  on  him  with  all  his  weight, 
and  even  snoring  away  on  his  shoulder,  without  the  least 
spark  of  ill-feeling. 

Encouraged  by  this  music,  INIeo  stretching  across  the 
Parisian,  and  Emma  stretching  across  the  American, 
bent  towards  each  other,  until  their  heads  were  near  the 
middle  of  the  carriage.     When  they  were  close  enough 


THE    EIGHTH    TASSENGER.  95 

to  hear  without  being  heard,  they  recounted  to  each 
other,  lip  to  ear,  all  their  mutual  experiences  and  suf- 
ferinos  since  the  end  of  the  month  of  June.  Emma  did 
not  lay  much  stress  on  the  hardships  of  her  captivity ; 
she  did  not  consider  her  present  happiness  at  all 
dear  at  such  a  price.  Meo  also  went  rapidly  through 
his  marches  and  countermarches,  for  all  the  labors  of 
the  campaign  are  forgotten  when  the  trumpet  sounds 
the  signal  for  battle.  He  was  quite  confident  of  his 
ability  to  measure  swords  with  M.  Bitterlin,  to  subdue 
his  ill-will,  to  put  his  prejudices  to  utter  rout,  and  to 
sign  a  lasting  peace  by  a  happy  marriage. 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  Captain,  who 
sneezed  three  times,  and  at  last  awoke.  He  began  at 
once  to  seek  for  the  cause  of  the  strange  tickling  that  he 
had  experienced  in  his  nose,  and  he  soon  found  it  in  the 
stuff  of  which  his  neighbor's  greatcoat  was  made.  It 
was  a  silky  tissue  of  long  fine  wool,  as  Avarm  as  fur  and 
much  lighter,  an  excellent  thing,  in  fact,  for  travelling. 
But  M.  Bitterlin  had  inhaled  a  tuft  of  the  slender  fila- 
ments, and  the  tingling  titillation  had  set  his  nose  on 
fire.  He  gave  his  living  pillow  a  vigorous  shaking,  and 
as  soon  as  he  saw  him  awake,  he  addressed  him  without 
ceremony : 

"Sir,  is  there  any  indiscretion  in  asking  you  what  is 
the  name  of  your  tailor?" 

"  Not  at  all,  sir ;  his  name  is  Alfred." 

"  Ah !  you  address  him  by  his  baptismal  name,  do 
you  ?  But  let  such  intimacy  pass.  Sir,  my  tailor  is  my 
porter,  and  rely  upon  it,  he  should  not  have  my  custom 
long  if  he  made  me  such  a  clumsy  watch-coat  as  that." 

"  Sir,  I  assure  you,  my  overcoat  is  very  convenient, 
and  a  splendid  thing  for  sleeping  in.     Good-night,  sir." 


96  ROUGE    ET    XOIR. 

"A  splendid  thing  for  sleeping  in!  "Well,  ?n,  yes, 
but  on,  I  deny.  When  people  travel  in  public  car- 
riages, they  should  take  care  to  select  coats  Avhich  are 
not  of  a  nature  to  incommode  their  neighbors." 

"  On  the  part  of  my  coat,  then,  sir,  I  beg  your  pardon. 
Please  excuse  me.     Good-night,  sir." 

"Sir,  in  such  a  case,  excuses  seem  rather  ironical. 
You  have  no  excuses  to  ask  nor  I  to  grant.  It  is  I  who 
have  been  wrong,  in  permitting  myself  to  incline  towards 
the  right,  when  I  could  have  leaned  far  more  comforta- 
bly to  the  left.  I  return  to  my  corner,  sir,  to  my  own 
corner,  sir ! " 

The  Parisian  was  fast  asleep  again  in  five  minutes, 
but  the  Captain  took  more  time  at  it.  lie  turned  and 
twisted  every  way  for  more  than  three-quarters  of  an 
hour.  Emma,  with  eyes  prudently  closed,  awaited 
under  her  veil  quite  patiently  for  his  first  snore.  jNIeo 
w^as  dreaming  away  with  his  eyes  open.  He  envied  the 
lot  of  his  neighbor  the  Parisian,  whose  shoulder  had 
been  so  privileged  as  to  bear  the  Captaia's  head.  He 
determined  on  changing  places  with  him  as  soon  as  he 
could  do  so  without  exciting  suspicion.  He  saw  him- 
self already  the  constant,  patient,  and  docile  companion 
of  M.  Bitterlin.  He  should  always  yield  to  his  argu- 
ments, admire  his  theories,  and  laugh  at  his  jokes.  A 
sweet  sympathy  would  spring  up  by  degrees  in  this  wild, 
untamed  heart ;  the  old  wolf  would  become  gentle  at 
last.  And  who  knows?  Travelling  is  always  full  of 
adventures.  The  Captain's  foot  might  slip  as  he  stood 
on  the  brink  of  some  awful  precipice.  What  joy ! 
Quicker  than  lightning  to  run  and  seize  him,  to  snatch 
him  from  certain    death,  to  bear  him  back  safe  and 


THE   EIGHTH    PASSENGER.  97 

sound,  to  receive  his  thanks  with  respectful  tenderness — 
all  this  for  Moo  would  be  the  work  of  an  instant.  Next 
day,  a  new  adventure.  M.  Bitterlin  would  be  dining 
at  the  table  d'hote,  his  daughter  on  his  right  hand,  his 
deliverer  on  his  left.  A  discussion  would  spring  up 
during  the  dessert.  The  poor  old  gentleman,  always 
rather  quick,  would  bring  upon  himself  some  imperti- 
nent observation.  Meo  should  say  nothing  till  dinner 
was  over,  but,  as  soon  as  all  had  got  through  their 
coiFee,  he  would  retire  to  a  little  corner  and  there  pro- 
voke to  mortal  combat  the  insolent  fellow  who  had  been 
disrespectful  to  his  old  friend.  They  would  fight ;  Meo 
would  wound  his  man,  or,  better  still,  he  should  be 
wounded  himself.  On  returning  with  his  arm  in  a  sling, 
M.  Bitterlin  Avould  say  to  him  :  "  I  know  all.  This  is 
the  second  time  you  have  exposed  your  life  to  save  mine. 
What  shall  I  do  to  sho^v  my  gratitude  for  such  devotion  ? 
Everything  that  I  have  is  yours  !  "  "  Sir,"  would  be 
Meo's  reply,  "  of  all  the  good  things  you  have,  I  ask 
but  a  single  one,"  looking  at  Emma,  who  would  be 
standing  by,  all  in  confusion  and  blushing  like  a  rose 
with  pleasure.  The  Captain  would  then  give  him  his 
hand  and  exclaim,  with  true  military  bluntness,  "  Take 
her,  old  boy,  and  make  her  a  good  husband,  'od  rot  it ! " 

By  this  time  they  had  all  fallen  asleep  in  the  car- 
riage, and  even  M.  Bitterlin  had  once  more  made  the 
Parisian  his  pillow,  as  hares  return  to  their  forms. 
Emma  and  Meo  resumed  the  conversation  where  they 
had  left  it  off,  and  they  were  not  long  in  adding  another 
story  to  their  fairy  castle  in  the  air. 

Ten  minutes  after  ten,  the  train  stopped  for  a  quarter 

of  an  hour  at  Troyes.     The  Parisian,  went  to  the  re- 
9  G 


98  ROUGE     ET    XOIR. 

fresh niont  room  to  take  a  glass  of  sugar  and  water,  and 
Meo  followed  him. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  as  they  were  descending  the  steps  of 
the  carriage,  "you  have  rather  a  troublesome  neighbor." 

"  Yes,  but  he 's  an  original.  He  is  troublesome,  but 
amusing." 

"  Ah  !  ill  that  case,  then,  sir,  I  cannot  mention  my  re- 
quest.    To  do  so  might  be  perhaps  making  too  free." 

"  Mention  it,  anyhow,  sir." 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  you  to  change  places  with  me; 
but  if  you  set  your  heart  on  being  M.  Bitterlin's  neigh- 
bor—" 

"Oh  !  not  quite  so  much  as  that.  You  know  him, 
then?" 

"  I  do,  sir,  and  I  would  give  all  I  'm  worth  to  see  his 
head  leaning  on  my  shoulder  as  it  did  on  yours  just 
now." 

"  Well,  there 's  no  accounting  for  tastes !  Have  him 
for  a  neighbor,  by  all  accounts !  Take  him,  sir,  with 
pleasure." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart." 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear  sir ;  there 's  no  occasion  for  such 
thanks,  I  assure  you." 

"  No  occasion  !  You  don't  know,  then,  that  I  am  in 
love  with  his  daughter  ?  That  I  —  that  he  —  that  she 
—  ah!  Sir,  it  is  a  regular  novel !  a  complete  romance! 
quite  a  poem!  I  can  tell  you  it  all.  Now  you  're  my 
friend  and  shall  know  all  my  secrets." 

It  was  not  the  poor  fellow's  fault  if  everybody  did 
not  know  his  secrets.  He  commenced  his  story  with  so 
much  animation  that  his  ready-made  friend  found  him 


THE    EIGHTH    PASSENGER.  99 

quite  interesting.  He  was  a  man  of  pleasure,  and  in- 
different enough  towards  other  people's  affairs;  but  he 
soon  found  that  Meo  had  not  been  cast  in  the  worn-out 
mould  that  the  modern  French  are  formed  in :  and  he 
liked  him  at  once  because  he  could  discover  nothing  of 
the  bourgeois  about  him. 

"  And  now/'  pursued  Meo,  "  all  is  settled  between 
you  and  me  for  life  and  death.  Your  friends  are  mine : 
I  will  help  you  to  kill  your  enemies :  my  head,  heart, 
arm,  hand,  they  're  all  at  your  service !  " 

'■'■  Really,  you«'re  too  kind.  I  live  in  a  world  where 
there  is  neither  friend  nor  enemy.  We  have  only  pleas- 
ant acquaintances  or  slight  antipathies.  I  thank  you, 
however,  all  the  same." 

"  And  on  your  side,  you  shall  aid  me  in  getting  rid 
of  my  difficulties ;  you  won't  forsake  me ;  you  shall  be 
my  guide  and  my  support ;  you  shall  get  me  married ! " 

"Good  heavens,  my  dear  sir,  that  is  not  exactly  my 
specialty.  However,  if  I  can  aid  you  in  any  way,  I 
shall  be.  delighted  to  do  so ;  the  more  so,  as  I  am  going 
to  Baden,  and  according  to  the  opinion  of — some  actor  or 
other,  Grassot  I  believe,  good  actions  always  bring  luck. 
But  there  goes  the  bell.  Let  us  get  in.  Before  me,  if 
you  please." 

Meo  did  not  require  to  be  asked  twice.  He  advanced 
on  tiptoe,  begging  everybody's  pardon  left  and  right, 
and  with  infinite  precautions  took  his  seat  beside  his 
father-in-law  that  was  to  be.  The  Captain,  who  was 
awake,  looked  at  him,  passed  his  hand  along  his  coat, 
and  grumbled  between  his  teeth  : 

"  These  railroads  are  disgusting  1  One's  neighbor  is 
changed  ten  times  a  day." 


100  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"Sir,"  said  Meo,  in  his  most  insinuating  tones,  "ex- 
cuse the  liberty  that  I  have  taken.  From  the  way  you 
spoke  I  thought  the  change  would  have  been  agreeable 
to  you." 

"And  why  should  you  think  so,  sir,  if  you  please? 
The  other's  coat  was  annoying  and  ridiculous,  but  I  had 
grown  used  to  it." 

The  poor  fellow,  thoroughly  silenced,  tried  to  make 
himself  as  small  as  possible.  The  first  brush  had  not 
been  brilliant.  At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  M. 
Bitterlin,  who  did  not  fall  asleep  again,  began  to  snuif 
the  air  with  all  kinds  of  faces,  like  a  horse  scenting 
wolves. 

"  It 's  very  strange,"  he  said  at  last,  quite  loud. 
"  Emma,  have  you  got  any  scent  about  you?" 

"  No,  papa." 

"  Nor  you  either,  sir  ?  "  asked  he  of  the  American. 

The  tall  red-headed  man  did  not  take  the  trouble  to 
reply. 

"But  I  'm  not  mistaken,  sir,"  pursued  the  Captain, 
seizing  Meo's  arm.  "  It 's  you  !  You  smell  of  drugs ! 
or  of  violet !     Yes,  that 's  it  —  violet !  " 

"It  is  true,  sir,"  stammered  Meo.  "Sometimes, 
without  any  bad  intention,  of  that  be  assured,  sir,  I 
sprinkle  my  handkerchief  with  a  little  perfume  of 
violets." 

"  Then  I  don't  compliment  you  on  your  taste,  sir." 

"  Sir,  if  I  had  only  known  — " 

"  After  all,  you  may  have  your  reasons.  Every  one 
for  himself  in  this  wicked  world." 

"  Sir,  if  this  odor  is  disagreeable  to  you,  I  can  return 
to  my  old  place." 


A    TOUK    IN    SWITZERLAND.  101 

"For  what  do  you  take  me,  sir?  Do  you  think  I 
am  womau  enough  to  die  of  it?  I  have  smelled  worse 
smells  than  that  on  the  field  of  battle.  Only  allow  me 
to  let  in  a  little  air." 

■  M.  Bitterlin  slept  no  more  that  night ;  Emma  was 
condemned  to  silence,  and  Meo  got  an  ugly  cold  in  the 
head.  That  was  all  he  gained  by  the  ride  from  Paris 
to  Basel. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND. 

WHAT  consoled  him  a  little  was  the  consideration 
that  he  had  a  fortnight  before  him  to  retrieve  his 
losses.  Emma  had  fully  apprised  him  of  the  tour  her 
father  was  to  take.  He  knew  exactly  at  what  hotels 
they  were  to  stop ;  what  evening  they  should  pass  on 
the  summit  of  the  Righi ;  at  what  o'clock  they  were  to 
go  to  breakfiist  in  front  of  the  Falls  of  the  Rhine. 

With  a  heart  full  of  balmy  security,  then,  he  saw  the 
Captain  and  his  daughter  enter  the  omnibus  belonging 
to  the  Hotel  of  the  Three  Kings,  whilst  he  engaged  a 
hack  for  himself  and  his  new  friend. 

"  Is  n-t  it  true,"  he  asked  the  latter,  every  minute  or 
so,  "  that  she  is  the  prettiest  little  creature  in  the 
world  ?  " 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  replied  the  confidant. '  "  She 
somewhat  resembles  that  little  Rosalie  who  dances  at 
tlie  opera.     Only  her  style  is  decidedly  better." 
9* 


102  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  You  've  promised  to  help  me,  you  know.  Your 
presence  will  give  me  new  courage.  In  tlie  name  of  her 
•whom  you  love,  don't  abandon  me  !  " 

"  Why,  my  dear  sir,  there  is  no  need  whatever  of  so 
much  entreaty.  I  am  not  in  the  least  hurry  to  leave 
you.  I  am  going  to  a  place  where  people  always  arrive 
only  too  soon.  So,  the  longer  I  remain  on  the  road  the 
better  for  myself." 

They  crossed  together  the  city  of  Erasmus  and  of 
Holbein,  without  ever  looking  to  see  if  it  were  well 
or  ill-built.  The  one  was  thinking  of  nothing  but  his 
mistress,  the  other  was  thinking  of  nothing  at  all. 

The  Hotel  of  the  Three  Kings  is  the  largest  cara- 
vansary in  Switzerland.  Travellers  file  off  by  hundreds 
in  its  enormous  dining-room  overhanging  the  Rhine. 
Meo  and  his  companion  found  not  only  Emma  and  her 
father  there  before  them,  but  also  all  their  other  rail- 
road acquaintances.  This  is  one  of  the  great  charms  of 
a  tour  in  Switzerland  —  though  to  be  sure  it  is  sometimes 
rather  "slow"  —  you  are  constantly  meeting  the  same 
persons  the  whole  length  of  the  route.  It  might  be  said 
that  every  chance  batch  of  tourists  is  swept  along  to- 
gether as  if  in  a  kind  of  current. 

The  Englishman  and  the  American  were  eating  away, 
back  to  back,  each  at  a  table  by  himself.  The  young 
German  couple  had  just  come  down  from  their  room, 
hand  in  hand,  eyes  beaming  on  eyes.  They  sat  down 
side  by  side,  and  the  dainty,  light-haired  darling  placed 
her  rather  large  foot  on  her  husband's  boot.  They 
breakftisted  together*  with  their  hands  around  each 
other's  waists,  though  of  course  they  had  to  let  go  when 
the  trout  came  up,  because  even  four  hands  are  not  too 
many  to  take  the  bones  out. 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  103 

M.  Bitterliu  had  not  yet  commenced  his  breakfast. 
He  went  from  dining-room  to  terrace  and  from  terrace 
to  dining-room,  without  being  able  to  select  a  table  or  to 
give  his  orders.  The  head-waiter,  the  steward,  and  the 
proprietor  did  everything  to  satisfy  him,  but  in  vain. 
"  Let  us  understand  each  other,"  said  he  to  them.  "  I 
want  to  take  breakfast,  but  not  like  a  glutton  that 
makes  a  god  of  his  paunch,  nor  like  tliat  gentleman 
there  below  who  looks  like  an  ox  gorging  himself  with 
hay.  However,  I  must  eat,  for  I  have  passed  the  night 
on  the  road,  and  I  have  some  journeying  still  to  do  to- 
day. Expense  has  no  terrors  for  me.  It  is  not  to  haggle 
about  ai  farthing  that  I  start  on  a  summer  tour.  Wlien 
one  wants  to  save  his  money,  he  had  better  stay  at  home. 
I  should  be  ashamed  to  breakfast  like  that  poor  devil 
of  a  student  yonder,  who  is  steeping  a  cut  of  bread  and 
butter  in  his  coffee." 

"Sir,"  said  the  proprietor,  "we  have  salmon,  trout, 
lobsters  —  " 

"  Yes ;  but  is  your  fish  fresh  ?  Is  n't  it  a  regular 
trick  of  yours  to  pass  off  on  travellers  all  the  old  fish 
that  ever  lived  in  Noah's  ark  ?  Besides,  it 's  the  sauce 
that  makes  the  fish,  and  what  do  you  Swiss  know  about 
composing  a  sauce  ?  That 's  a  French  art.  Awkward 
lubbers  like  you  know  nothing  about  it,  so  you  can  keep 
your  fish  for  yourselves ! "  .  ^ 

The  steward,  in  his  turn,  went  on  to  enumerate  :  "  In 
game,  we  have  venison,  hares,  chamois,  partridges ;  this 
is  the  first  day  of  the  shooting-season." 

"  Then  none  of  your  game  for  me.  Killed  this  morn- 
ing !  I  like  that !  Why  don't  you  offer  me  a  pair  of 
your  old  boots  at  once  ?  " 


104  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  As  for  butelier's  meat,"  continiicd  the  pkieiJ  stew- 
ard, "we  have  baked  mutton,  roast  mutton,  fillfet  of 
beef,  kidneys,  cutlets,  chops,  shoukler  of  mutton  — " 

"  Yes,  and  I  '11  bet  that  you  stuff  the  whole  lot  with 
onions.  It's  your  mania,  you  know.  You're  all  the 
same !     Impossible  to  cook  without  onions!  " 

Pie  went  u]>  to  an  inoffensive  traveller  who  was  dis- 
cussing with  very  good  appetite  some  duck  and  onion- 
sauce. 

"Sir,"  said  he,  "are  you  really  eating  that  fodder?" 
"Why,  sir  — " 

"  Perhaps  you  would  even  tell  me  that  it  is  a  delicious 
dish?" 

"  Sir  !  —  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  object  to  your  saying  so.  Speech 
is  free;  particularly  here  where  the  animals  of  these 
cantons  have  been  so  luxurious  as  to  treat  themselves 
to  a  republic !  But  you  will  allow  me  to  observe  in  my 
turn  that  a  man  must  have  a  taste  very  false,  very  per- 
verted, very  trivial  in  fact  (excuse  the  expression),  who 
can  eat  and  relish  such  a  mess  as  that."  Then  turning 
towards  the  steward,  who  was  now  staring  at  him  with 
ey.es  as  big  as  saucers,  he  said  :  "  Well,  then,  making 
due  allowance  for  everything,  give  us  for  breakfast 
whatever  you  please,  and  whenever  you  please!  At 
war,  let  it  be  war !  " 

They  showed  him  to  a  table.  Emma,  much  morti- 
fied at  such  a  display  on  tlie  part  of  her  father,  sat  down 
opposite  him,  casting  a  melancholy  glance  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Meo.  The  waiter  approached  and  asked  what 
wine  they  preferred.  The  Captain  replied  :  "  Can  you 
p-ive  me  the  wine  I  drink  at  home  in  the  Rue  desVosges  ? 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  105 

Of  course  you  can't.     Well,  that   is  the  only  wine  I 
like.     Let  us  have  water." 

The  good  folks  of  the  hotel  served  him  up  a  repast 
abundant,  savory,  varied,  —  such,  in  fact,  as  can  be 
found  only  in  that  country  flowing  with  milk  and 
honey.  He  complained  that  the  butter  was  riot  fresh. 
Not  fresh  in  Switzerland !  Thinking  that  a  plate 
looked  rather  suspicious,  he  flung  it  at  the  waiter's 
head,  adding  by  way  of  commentary :  "  I  am  not  hard 
to  please.  I've  drunk  horse-soup  out  of  a  trooper's 
helmet.  But  here  I  represent  the  grand  army  of 
France.  AVhoever  fails  in  respect  to  me,  insults  it. 
You  see  that  river  out  there  flowing  under  the  walls  of 
your  barrack  ?  That  river  has  been  mine !  I  con- 
quered it  with  my  comrades.  So  you  'd  better  look 
sharp  how  you  conduct  yourself,  my  good  fellow  !  " 

Meo  was  eagerly  watching  for  an  opjDortunity  to  in- 
terfere on  behalf  of  his  father-in-law,  but,  to  tell  the 
truth,  he  did  not  consider  the  present  moment  favor- 
able. All  he  could  decently  do  was  to  offer  him  a  \vord 
of  consolation  as  soon  as  he  saw  him  at  the  dessert.  Pass- 
ing near  him  as  if  by  chance,  he  greeted  him  with  his 
sweetest  smile,  and  said,  "  I  'm  very  much  afraid,  sir,  that 
you  've  made  a  bad  breakfast  in  this  miserable  place." 

M.  Bitterlin  lifted  his  head,  and  answered,  with  a  su- 
percilious air,  "  Miserable  place,  sir  !  Miserable  your- 
self! If  it  were  a  miserable  place,  I  Avould  not  have 
been  in  it." 

"  I  mean  —  yes  —  it  is  true  enough,"  stammered  Meo. 
"  I  was  even  surprised  myself.  I  should  have  never 
expected  to  find  such  tolerable  cookery  among  the  lub- 
bers of  this  country." 


10(3  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"Sir,"  said  tlie  Captain,  getting  up  from  the  table, 
"all  the  lubbers  in  the  world  are  not  Swiss.  I  have 
the  honor  to  wish  you  a  very  pleasant  journey."  Meo 
was  profuse  in  his  expressions  of  gratitude  for  the  in- 
terest thus  manifested  in  his  behalf;  but  the  Captain 
turned  his  back  on  him  without  adding  another  word. 

An  hour  afterwards,  though  they  had  by  no  means 
made  any  mutual  arrangement  on  the  subject,  the  whole 
party  found  themselves  together  once  more  in  the  Basel 
Museum.  Each  one  walked  about  for  himself,  pretend- 
ing not  to  recognize  the  others.  This,  you  know,  is 
what  well-bred  travellers  always  do.  The  young  Ger- 
man couple  succeeded  in  stealing  a  kiss  on  the  sly 
behind  one  of  M.  Calame's  pictures.  The  fat  English- 
man admired  a  pretty  little  statue  of  the  ^Middle  Ages  so 
much  that  he  broke  off  a  finger  and  put  it  in  his  pocket- 
book  by  way  of  a  souvenir.  The  American,  unwilling 
to  be  outdone,  carried  off  the  whole  of  the  mutilated 
hand  together  with  a  part  of  the  forearm.  The  Parisian 
stopped  before  Holbein's  masterpieces.  He  was  of  the 
opinion  that  this  divine  master  somewhat  resembled  M. 
Courbet  of  Paris,  only  his  style  was  decidedly  better. 
Meo's  greatest  attraction  was  a  young  girl's  head, 
framed  in  Emma's  straw  bonnet.  As  to  M.  Bitterlin, 
his  pleasure  consisted  in  proving  to  his  pretty  compan- 
ion that  the  galleries  wanted  order  and  the  catalogues 
clearness.     And  so  every  one  felt  perfectly  satisfied. 

When  the  custodian  of  the  Museum  opened  the  door 
to  let  them  out,  Meo  thought  to  make  himself  agreeable 
by  paying  for  the  whole  party ;  but  the  Captain,  feeling 
his  nerves  begin  to  trouble  him,  asked  him  stiffly  what 
he  meant  by  taking  such  an  unwarrantable  liberty. 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  107 

This  old  codger  of  a  Captain  had  not  known  Meo's 
face  for  quite  twenty-four  hours,  but  his  antipatliy 
towards  liini  was  ah-cady  full-grown.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  had  taken  rather  a  liking  for  the  Parisian, 
who  however  treated  him  roughly  enough.  Morose 
tempers  are  often  subject  to  such  anomalies. 

Switzerland  is  quite  up  to  the  demands  of  the  nine- 
teenth century ;  the  mountains  that  bristle  around  it  are 
no  barriers  against  progress.  Tell's  lakes  reflect  the 
fluttering  of  steamboat  flags.  Telegraph  poles  are  to  be 
met  amid  the  wildest  gorges.  Lightning-rods  protect 
the  chalets,  and  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive  has  begun 
to  unite  its  blast  almost  at  every  turn  with  the  grand 
voices  of  nature.  Meo  always  availed  himself  of  the 
telegraph  to  bespeak  a  room  for  himself,  and  also  two 
for  the  Bitterlin  family.  It  cost  him  twenty-five  words 
and  twenty  cents.  At  this  price  he  was  sure  of  dining 
and  sleeping  not  far  from  Emma.  The  Captain  saw 
himself  served  as  if  by  enchantment,  but  he  only  fumed 
against  the  invisible  providence  that  envied  him  the 
pleasure  of  domineering.  The  Italian's  everlasting 
presence  was  becoming  more  and  more  disagreeable  to 
him  every  day.  Whatever  pains  he  took  to  avoid  him, 
he  met  him  in  every  carriage  and  in  every  inn.  Often, 
he  would  let  him  enter  one  carriage,  and  then  run  off 
as  fast  as  he  could  with  his  daughter  to  take  seats  in 
another  at  the  far  end  of  the  train.  Useless  manoeuvre ! 
Ten  minutes  afterwards  Meo  would  be  seated  at  his 
side,  and  pointing  him  out  the  beauties  of  the  scenery. 
The  construction  of  the  Swiss  carriages  renders  such  a 
proceeding  comparatively  easy.  As  in  America,  they 
are  united  together  by  a  kind  of  platform,  by  means  of 


108  ROUGE    ET    NOm. 

wliicli  the  passengers  can  pass  without  danger  from  one 
end  of  tlie  train  to  tlie  other. 

On  Saturday  night,  our  whole  party  slept  at  Olten, 
a  great  central  point  of  the  Swiss  railroads.  When  the 
hotel-keeper  presented  his  register  to  the  travellers,  the 
eight  ])ersonages  with  whoni  the  reader  is  already  ac- 
quainted, inscribed  themselves  as  follows  : 

"Bitterlin,  Captain  of  the  first  class,  Chevalier  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor,  etc.,  etc. ;  Paris.     With  his  daughter." 

"  Bartolonieo  Narni,  an  exile ;  Paris.  Happy  from 
travelling  in  good  company." 

"Arthur  Le  Roy,  property  -  holder ;  Paris.  Oh! 
Love,  thou  hast  ruined  Troy!" 

"  Frederic  Moring,  private  gentleman ;  Berlin.  Trav- 
elling with  his  dearest  heart-treasure : 

"O  monnthins,  lakes  of  blue!  O  daisies -spanpled  sheen! 
O  tuneful  nightingale !  and  oh,  my  own  Christine ! " 

"  Thomas  Plum,  London." 

"  George  Wreck,  Esq.,  New  York." 

Having  written  their  names,  each  one  stole  back,  un- 
known to  the  rest,  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  name 
and  standing  of  his  companions.  When  stout  Mr. 
Plum  saw  that  the  American  had  given  himself  the  title 
of  Esquire  in  an  hotel- register,  his  fancy  was  so  highly 
tickled,  and  he  burst  into  such  a  fit  of  violent  laughter, 
that  the  two  lower  buttons  of  his  waistcoat  flew  oif  at 
right  angles,  and  were  never  found  again. 

They  retired  to  their  rooms  without  looking  at  the 
neighborhood.  The  sky  was  dark  and  gloomy.  It  was 
raining  in  the  valley,  and  snowing  on  the  mountains. 

M.  Bitterlin  had  stuffed  cotton  into  his  ears;  still, 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  109 

before  he  fell  asleep,  he  heard  a  fine  barytone  voice,  with 
an  unmistakable  accent,  singing : 

"  In  vain  you  resist  me, 
You  fly  me  in  vain, 
For  the  kind  Fates  assist  me 
Your  heart  to  obtain," 

Next  day  they  breakfasted  at  the  "  Swiss  Hotel,"  in 
Lucerne,  on  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons. 
The  weather  had  become  fine  again.  The  medieval 
outline  of  the  pretty  little  city  stood  out  sharply  defined 
against  a  lovely  azure  sky.  Steamboats  moved  over  the 
blue  waters.  Herds  of  stately  cattle  grazed  on  the  rich 
after-grass  of  the  green  banks.  Snow-capped  moun- 
tains shut  in  the  scene.  Good  bisr-footed  Switzer-folk 
promenaded  before  the  hotel  in  their  holiday  attire,  and 
some  pretty  English  girls,  as  they  ran  up  to  their  rooms, 
gave  occasional  glimpses  of  their  red  petticoats.  M. 
Arthur  Le  Roy  thought  that  the  country  somewhat  re- 
sembled the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  only  that  the  style  was 
decidedly  better.  The  Captain  stormed  about  the  trout, 
which  he  swore  pursued  him  all  over  the  country. 
Emma  and  Meo  ate  with  their  eyes,  and  never  com- 
plained of  the  breakfast.  M.  M()ring  and  his  pretty 
bride,  becoming  frisky  from  the  effects  of  a  bottle  of 
Rhine-wine,  chased  each  other  up  and  down  stairs,  with 
all  that  boisterous  gaiety  of  which  Germany  alone  has 
contrived  to  keep  the  secret.  Even  long  after  their  door 
was  shut,  the  whole  house  resounded  with  their  screams 
of  laughter.  Mr.  Plum  entered  the  store  of  national 
curiosities,  which  is  attached  to  the  hotel.  Buvino-  a 
long  iron-tipped  pole  surmounted  with  a  chamois-horn, 
10 


110  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

he  got  tlic  names  of  all  the  mountains  of  Switzerland 
cut  on  it.  Mr.  Wreck  followed  his  example;  only,  un- 
willing to  be  outdone,  to  the  already  long  list  he  added 
the  names  of  Vesuvius,  Dhawalaghiri,  and  Cotopaxi. 
These  monumental  trophies,  trutiiful  as  obelisks,  were 
destined  for  nothing  more  than  the  humble  ascent  of  the 
Ilighi. 

All  started  in  the  steamboat  about  two  o'clock,  and 
they  soon  landed  at  Weggis,  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain. Thanks  to  the  fine  weather,  our  little  trooj)  of 
travellers  had  now  swelled  to  about  a  score,  and  they  all 
made  a  grand  assemblage  in  the  little  jjort  of  Weggis. 
The  guides,  who  compose  the  whole  population  of  the 
village,  had  run  up  with  all  the  litters  and  horses  at 
their  disposal,  but  one  glance  told  them  that  the  supply 
would  fall  far  short  of  the  demand.  Violent  disputes 
arose  immediately,  in  which  all  the  languages  of  Europe 
took  a  part;  some  canes  fell  down  rather  heavily  on 
some  hats,  and  Meo  for  a  moment  indulged  the  fond 
hope  that  he  was  about  to  have  an  opportunity  of  de- 
fending M.  Bitterlin.  But  the  Captain  was  one  of 
those  that  give  blows,  not  get  them ;  and  of  course  he 
was  accommodated  long  before  anybody  else.  He 
sprang  on  a  charger  and  galloped  over  the  battlefield, 
brandishino;  his  umbrella  as  if  it  was  a  sword  of  Charlc- 
inagne.  He  even  tried  once  or  twice  to  make  the  poor 
beast  prance  a  little,  thinking  of  Gerard's  famous  picture 
of  Napoleon  crossing  the  Alps.  His  daughter  was 
safely  installed  in  a  litter  by  the  exertions  of  Meo  and 
M.  Arthur  Le  Roy.  This  duty  performed,  the  two 
knights  plunged  into  the  thick  of  the  fight,  and  they 
were  soon  seen,  seated  on   English  saddles,  towering 


A    TOUli    IN    SWITZERLAND.  Ill 

high"  above  their  rivals.  Moring  and  liis  bride  had 
retired  apart,  and,  seated  side  by  side  on  one  of  tlie 
hotel  benches,  they  contemplated  from  afar  the  spectacle 
of  men's  clashing  passions:  doves  never  take  part  in  the 
war  of  vultures.  Unfortunately,  having  no  Avings  to 
climb  the  mountain,  they  had  to  walk.  The  English- 
man and  the  American  appeared  to  be  condemned  to 
the  same  fate,  and  Mr.  Plum  had  already  begun  to  per- 
spire at  the  very  idea.  fie  gazed  despondingly  on 
his  rival's  long  legs,  and  sighed  at  the  idea  that  Old 
England  was  about  to  be  left  behind  by  the  savages  of 
the  New  World.  But  four  students  from  Leipsic,  who 
had  reasons  of  their  own  for  walking,  spied  one  of  their 
countrymen  on  one  of  the  best  horses  of  Weggis.  Un- 
able to  bear  such  a  sight,  they  seized  the  aristocrat  by 
the  legs  and  tugged  at  him  so  vigorously  that  he  was 
soon  unseated.  Mr.  Plum  closely  watched  this  popular 
commotion,  and  taking  advantage  of  a  favorable  mo- 
ment, he  jumped  like  india-rubber  into  the  middle  of 
the  crowd,  and  was  soon  in  the  saddle  in  place  of  the 
young  stranger.  This  is  the  way  that  the  English 
always  feather  their  nest  by  the  Continental  revolutions. 
The  American  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  started 
off  with  a  light  foot :  he  wanted  no  horse  to  reach  the 
mountain  summit  before  a  fat,  puffy  John  Bull. 

The  horsemen,  footmen,  and  litters  started  on  their 
march  in  picturesque  order,  up  an  easy  and  safe  road. 
Every  Frenchman  that  can  read  knows  all  about  the 
Righi ;  M.  Alexander  Dumas  has  made  it  the  scene  of 
one  of  the  prettiest  sketches  in  his  masterly  work.  Still 
the  charming  author  of  the  "  Impressions  de  Voyage  " 
has  probably  exaggerated  the  dangers  of  the  ascent  and 


112  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

tliG  majesty  of  the  view.  To  speak  exactly,  it  is  oiily  a 
hill  about  a  mile  high,  set  right  ia  the  middle  of  au 
amphitheatre  of  mountains :  it  is  a  regular  dress-circle 
to  see  the  sun  rise  from,  but  the  stairway  leading  to  it  is 
not  at  all  difficult. 

M.  Bitterlin  curveted  along  at  the  head  of  his  com- 
pany, as  all  good  captains  do.  Meo  followed  him 
closely,  imitating  as  well  as  he  could  all  his  splendid 
feats  of  high  horsemanship.  As  the  magnificent  scenery 
opened  around  them,  he  trusted  that  admiration,  that 
bond  of  sympathy  between  all  noble  hearts,  would  win 
for  him  at  last  the  friendship  of  the  intractable  old  man. 
Besides,  he  still  had  his  hopes  of  being  soon  favored 
with  an  opportunity  to  pluck  him  from  the  brink  of 
some  terrible  precipice.  But  danger  was  very  slow  in 
coming,  and  M.  Bitterlin  seemed  to  be  in  no  admiring 
humor.  Whenever  the  guide  brought  his  caravan  to  a 
halt  at  some  spot  famous  for  its  commanding  view,  the 
Captain  growled  between  his  teeth:  "Humbug  of  a. 
country  !  though  it 's  not  the  only  one  I  've  seen."  Meo 
was  sincerely  ecstatic.  His  soul  had  been  already  fully 
prepared  to  relish  the  spectacle  in  all  its  grandeur,  for 
lovers  are  the  most  indulgent  of  critics,  and  they  wish 
well  to  everything  on  the  face  of  nature.  But  every 
time  that  he  tried  to  express  his  sentiments,  the  Captain 
whistled  and  sneered  and  hammered  away  with  his  heels 
at  the  flanks  of  his  old  horse.  Emma  closed  the  march 
with  five  or  six  other  ladies.  In  all  the  charming  land- 
scape the  only  thing  that  the  poor  child  could  see,  was 
her  father's  back  turned  to  her  lover's  face. 

After  a  march  of  four  hours,  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  llighi-Kulm,  that  is  to  say,  the  tip  top  of  the  Righi. 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  113 

Two  wooden  buikiings  occupy  this  summit:  one  is 
where  M.  Alexander  Dumas  in  company  with  the  iUus- 
trious  Alcide  Jollivet  got  such  a  poor  dinner;  the  other 
is  an  additional  structure  twice  as  large  as  the  first. 
Here  three  hundred  tourists  can  obtain  food  and  lodging, 
and  an  English  nobleman  is  no  longer  in  danger  of 
getting  killed  for  eating  an  extra  lark.  So  much,  at 
least,  for  the  progress  of  our  century ! 

The  only  scourge  that  still  reigns  on  those  steep  sum- 
mits, is  the  cold.  M.  Bitterlin's  big  nose,  reddened  vis- 
ibly as  he  approached  the  hotel,  and  his  horse  slipped 
every  now  and  then  on  a  path  not  yet  quite  free  from 
occasional  patches  of  snow.  More  than  once,  too,  a  dense 
mist,  cold  as  ice,  would  envelop  him,  and  then  he  would 
commence  a  sneezing  as  loud  as  the  trumpets  of  Jericho. 
Meo,  in  his  wisdom,  thought  this  would  be  a  favorable 
moment  to  soften  this  living  rock.  "  My  dear  old 
gentleman,"  he  began,  "  I  feel  quite  exhilarated  at  trav- 
elling with  you  over  these  sublime  heights.  Happy  the 
man  who  could  live  here,  far  from  the  world,  between  a 
father  bowed  by  experience  on  the  one  side,  and  an 
adored  wife  on  the  other  !  My  ambition  has  never  as- 
pired after  more.  INIoney  and  honors  have  no  charms 
for  me.  Such  a  felicity  would  suffice  me  for  all  my 
life.     I  swear  it  by  your  venerable  locks !  " 

"  Zounds  !  sir,"  exclaimed  the  Captain,  in  an  excited 
tone,  "  I  'm  not  quite  a  mummy  yet,  so  you  had  better 
keep  your  compliments  to  yourself.  You  have  a  very 
disagreeable  way*  of  talking,  young  sir." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir  —  " 

"  Once  for  all,  do  me  the  favor  to  explain  such  liber- 
ties !  My  dear  sir !  dear  sir !  It  is  very  easy  to  say 
10  *  II 


Ill  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

dear  sir!  But  liow  Imve  I  come  to  be  your  clear  sir? 
]  [:ive  we  ever  mailc;  war  together  ?  Have  yoii  ever 
served  in  the  Fourth  Company  of  the  Second  Battalion 
of  the  One  llundicd  and  Fourth  Regiment?  I  don't 
know  you.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever^een  you. 
We  're  not  even  of  the  same  country  !  In  such  a  case, 
then  —  " 

"Sir,"  stammered  Mco,  "affection  is  not  to  be  com- 
manded. Regard,  friendship,  love  —  I  mean  grati- 
tude—" 

"  Gratitude  for  what?  I  could  understand  your  pro- 
ceedings easily  enough  if  you  had  any  notion  about  — 
Ah  !  I  understand.  In  fact,  it  is  likely  enough,  though 
it  is  only  to  rae  that  you  pay  the  attentions.  Could  you 
have  got  it  into  your  head  to  —  ?  If  that  be  the  case, 
you  had  better  say  so  right  off." 

"Sir—" 

"  Yes,  better  say  so  right  off,  for  my  only  answer 
would  be  to  hurl  you  down  headlong  into  that  ravine 
beneath  us,  without  a.s  much  as  giving  you  time  to  bless 
yourself! " 

Meo  protested  that  he  did  not  understand  what  he 
meant,  and  he  resumed,  in  the  most  feeling  tones  he 
could  command  ;  "  Sir,  I  comprehend  your  trouble,  and 
compassionate  your  sufferings.  Doubtless,  misfortune 
has  embittered  you  against  the  world.  The  first  time 
I  had  the  honor  of  meeting  you,  I  discovered  in  you 
one  of  those  woe-worn  souls  where  grief  has  left  its 
mark  in  lines  that  cannot  be  effaced.  Your  merits 
must  have  been  passed  over,  your  services  forgotten,  and 
your  confidence  betrayed  !  " 

At  this  last  expression  the  Captain  rose  up  on  his 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  115 

stirrups  and  cast  a  searching  glance  into  the  very  depths 
of  Meo's  eyes.  "  Young  man,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  call 
on  you  to  explain  yourself!  What  do  you  know? 
What  have  you  heard  ?  Who  has  been  trying  to  cover 
me  with  ridicule  ?  If  I  only  thought  —  but  no,  he  is 
too  stupid  ;  he  don't  know  himself  what  he 's  saying. 
However  —     Sir,  have  you  ever  been  at  Briangon  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"Or  Strasburg?" 

"  No,  sir,  never." 
.     "  How  long  have  you  been  living  in  Paris"?  " 

"Sir,  I  came  there  in  1850." 

"  Have  you  known  the  late  Madame  Bitterlin  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  swear  that  I  have  never  had  that  honor." 

"  Why  do  you  swear  ?  W^as  there  any  harm  in  know- 
ing her?" 

"  Sir,  I  don't  know,  I  'm  sure.     I  — " 

"  How !  You  don't  know  !  You  're  doubtful,  too  ! 
I  must  be  a  very  odd-looking  husband,  then  ?  " 

Poor  Meo  bewildered  himself  in  protestations  of  re- 
spect, took  off  his  hat,  tore  out  his  hair  in  handfuls,  shed 
tears  even ;  but  he  arrived  at  the  hotel  without  having 
advanced  a  single  step  in  M.  Bitterliu's  friendship. 

They  found  two  hundred  people  assembled  on  the 
summit  of  the  Righi  to  adore  the  sun.  The  god  of  the 
silver  bow,  the  god  of  Zoroaster  and  of  Chryses,  has  not 
in  all  Europe  a  temple  more  frequented.  Pilgrims 
come  there  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  universe,  and 
the  hotel-keeper  piously  collects  their  offerings.  Such 
is  the  ardor  of  the  faithful,  that  more  than  one  worship- 
per has  been  seen  there  trudging  about  in  the  snow  and 
rain  for  a  week  at  a  time,  just  to  catch  one  glimpse  of 


116  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

the  god.  Our  caravan  had  not  to  wait  so  long.  The 
sun,  who  had  not  sliown  himself  for  the  lost  four  days, 
condescended  to  retire  to  his  couch  in  their  presence. 
M.  Bitterlin  was  only  slightly  moved  by  the  sight,  one 
of  the  most  imposing  spectacles  that  nature  offers  to 
poets  for  a  description.  He  was  thinking  of  his  de- 
ceased wife,  and  such  thoughts  always  put  too  much 
black  into  his  colors.  Emma  and  Meo  watched  the 
clouds  as  they  chased  each  other  over  the  Captain's 
Olympian  brow.  Mr.  Wreck  was  marching  around 
with  trreat  strides  to  show  Mr.  Plum  that  his  walk  had 
not  made  him  tired,  while  Mr.  Plum  smiled  with  an 
air  which  seemed  to  say,  "  No  matter,  I  have  made 
America  go  on  foot !  "  M.  Arthur  Le  Roy  was  gazing 
quite  pensively  at  the  kitchen-chimneys,  and,  amid  the 
eternal  silence  of  the  mountains,  his  ear  was  anxiously 
on  the  watch  for  the  dinner-bell.  The  young  German 
and  his  bride,  wrapped  up  in  the  same  plaid,  were  dis- 
cussing metapliysically  the  aesthetics  of  the  globe. 

''  Beloved,"  said  the  young  wife,  "  whence  comes  it 
that  the  Infinite  overwhelms  mo?  When  we  gazed  on 
the  sea  at  Osteud,  I  considered  it  rather  small.  Yet  the 
ocean  is  likewise  infinite." 

"  Who  can  tell  ?  "  replied  the  husband.  "  It  is  per- 
haps'because  the  Infinite  in  height  brings  us  nearer  to 
the  great  All ;  whereas  the  Horizontal,  howsoever  far  it 
may  extend,  can  never  leave  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
Beyond  the  limits  of  the  ocean  we  find  earth  again ;  but 
above  the  mountains,  heaven." 

"  May  it  not  rather  be  because  the  sea  has  submitted 
to  the  yoke  of  man,  so  that  the  ships  we  see  in  the  dis- 
tance are  only  so  many  tokens  of  bondage?" 


A    TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND.  117 

"  It  may,  my  clear  love.  Perhaps  also  it  is  because 
the  infinite  is  subjective,  which  would  exj^lain  every- 
thing." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so,  darling  ?  Subjective  ? 
If  the  infinite  were  subjective,  it  would  be  circumscribed 
within  the  limits  of  the  Me;  therefore  it  would  be  sub- 
jective no  longer." 

The  other  travellers  were  tramping  about  actively  in 
the  melted  snow,  and  uttering  loud  cries  of  admiration, 
to  keep  their  feet  warm. 

The  bell  rang  at  last  for  dinner,  and  the  two  hundred 
guests  raced  •  to  the  refectory.  The  only  incident  of  the 
evening  was  the  scolding  that  M.  Bitterlin  gave  to  one 
of  the  waiters.  "  Do  you  want  to'  make  a  fool  of  me  ?  " 
cried  the  Captain.  "  You  brought  me  trout  yesterday 
morning  in  the  hotel  at  Basel ;  well,  I  ate  them.  Yes- 
terday evening,  trout  again  at  Olten ;  but  I  said  nothing. 
This  morning  at  Lucerne,  a  third  dish  of  trout ;  I  com- 
mented upon  it ;  and  here  you  are  again  with  them  this 
evening !  Have  you  taken  a  solemn  oath  to  turn  me 
into  a  trout  ?  Is  that  all  the  attention  you  pay  to  my 
observations  ?  " 

The  poor  domestic  stood  before  him  holding  the  dish 
with  a  bewildered  air,  and  pouring  every  drop  of  the 
gravy  over  a  Swedish  general's  coat,  for  he  did  not  un- 
derstand a  word  of  French.  Meo,  who  was  acquainted 
with  both  sides  of  the  case,  did  not  judge  this  a  favor- 
able moment  to  interfere  in  M.  Bitterliu's  behalf. 

M.  Moring  and  his  bride  emptied  between  them  a 
bottle  of  Liebfrauenmilch.  It  is  a  much  -  esteemed 
Rhine  wine ;  but  M.  Arthur  Le  Roy  did  not  look  at 
it  in  a  serious  light.     He  said  to  Meo  in  a  whisper : 


118  ROUGE    ET    NO  I  It. 

"  Xobodv  but  a  German  coukl  ever  think  of  baptizing 
wine  with  a  name  so  absurd  !  It  seems  to  me  tlia't  Ger- 
many is  painted  to  tlie  life  in  this  mixture  of  wine,  love, 
and  milk.  Liehfrauenmikh !  I've  been  in  love  occa- 
sionally, as  La  Fontaine  says ;  but  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  'd 
ever  hanker  after  tasting  Liehfraueniidlrh  at  its  natural 
source ! " 

jNIr.  Wreck  dinetl  in  I'ront  of  Mr.  Plum.  The  Eng- 
lishman ordered  a  bottle  of  claret ;  the  American  did 
the  same.  Plum  immediately  considered  it  a  point  of 
honor  to  call  for  a  bottle  of  Chamhertin..  Wreck  at 
once  accepted  the  challenge;  he  also  drank  a  bottle  of 
Chamhertin.  Plum  replied  by  a  bottle  of  Champagne. 
Wreck  drank  a  bottle  of  Champagne,  too,  without  wink- 
ing. When  the  others  rose  from  the  table,  each  of  the 
two  rivals  was  trying  to  empty  a  flask  of  Tokay.  Plura_ 
had  inscribed  himself  in  the  register  as  "Sir  Thomas 
Plum."     Wreck  signed  himself"  Count  George  Wreck." 

All  retired  to  bed  at  an  early  hour.  Plum  slept  under 
the  dinner-table.  Wreck,  from  national  pride,  slept 
on  it. 

The  two  hundred  guests  of  the  Righi,  scattered 
through  their  little  rooms,  were  just  beginning  to  snore 
in  unison,  when  a  mighty  voice  was  heard  thundering 
through  the  house,  shaking  it  to  its  very  foundation. 
It  was  M.  Bitterlin  who,  with  a  tricolored  silk  hand- 
kerchief for  a  night-cap,  was  exclaiming  to  the  German 
chambermaid : 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  don't  understand  a  word  of  French. 
Go  off,  then,  and  tell  a  servant  that  does,  to  come  here 
immediately  and  make  my  bed  over  again !" 


BADEN.  119 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

BADEN. 

THE  Swiss  tour  lasted  two  weeks,  over  lakes  and 
mountains,  under  the  generalship  of  M.  Bitterlin. 
The  little  caravan,  augmented  by  a  few  intruders  of 
no  consequence,  admired  in  succession  the  beautiful 
meadow-lands,  the  glorious  old  forests,  the  sunrises  and 
the  rain-storms,  the  waterfalls  and  the  glaciers.  They 
gathered  a  few  bouquets  of  Alp-roses.  Meo  even  took 
courage  to  present  one  to  the  Captain,  who  put  it  into 
his  pocket,  with  a  dry  "  thank  you."  They  met  no 
chamois,  ate  no  beefsteak  of  bear ;  nor  did  they  ascend 
Mont  Blanc  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  wrong  side 
of  the  clouds,  which  has  a  singular  resemblance  to  the 
right  side.  They  stopped  twice  a  day  in  hotels  that 
were  delightfully  clean  ;  they  took  good  meals  off  tables 
of  snowy  whiteness  and  fragrant  odor ;  they  slept  in 
beds  of  incomparable  comfort.  The  traveller  who 
travels  for  the  sake  of  travelling,  that  is  to  say,  to  eat 
well,  to  journey  comfortably,  and  to  rest  at  night  with- 
out being  tired  in  the  morning,  should  give  the  prefer- 
ence to  Switzerland.  Even  the  Captain  himself  ac- 
knowledged this,  whenever  he  happened  not  to  be  in  a 
bad  humor.  All  the  towns  they  went  through  resem- 
bled each  other  more  or  less.  They  are  of  all  sizes : 
some  big,  some  little,  some  overhanging  the  Rhine, 
some  seated  on  the  shore  of  a  blue  lake.  They  contain 
many  new  houses  and  some  old  churches,  stylish  build- 
ings of  equivocal  taste,  varied  horizons,  rapid  waters, 


120  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

autl  j)oivcUiiii  ])ipes.  Every  time  tliat  the  caravan  passed 
before  a  pretty  cottage  embosomed  in  gardens,  Meo 
turned  back  his  head,  and  always  met  Emma's  respon- 
sive ghince.  Young  Madame  Miiring  did  better  :  she 
made  her  husband  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and 
kissed  him  outside  the  carriage.  Poor  Meo  !  He  had 
not  even  the  consohition  of  rubbing  his  moustache 
against  the  Captain's. 

One  day,  however,  he  came  very  near  possessing  the 
happiness  he  had  been  so  long  dreaming  about.  It  was 
at  Schaffhauscu  before  the  Falls  of  the  Rhine.  The 
Captain,  who  despised  beaten  paths,  ventured  too  near 
the  edge  and  lost  his  footing.  "  At  last ! "  thought 
Meo,  and  oif  he  dashed  to  save  his  fatlier-in-law.  But 
his  zeal  carried  him  too  far  —  a  little  beyond  the  branch 
which  M.  Bitterlin  had  grasped.  So  the  savior  had  the 
mortification  of  being  saved  himself  by  the  very  man 
to  whose  assistance  he  had  run ;  and  when  he  tried  to 
express  his  gratitude,  he  was  told  that  for  such  fool- 
hardiness  he  richly  deserved  to  have  broken  his  neck. 

As  he  was  brushing  the  dust  oif  in  a  corner  in  a  very 
melancholy  manner,  M.  Arthur  Le  Roy,  his  faithful 
confederate,  joined  him,  saying: 

"My  poor  fellow,  you're  too  awkward  to  live.  Two 
chances !  and  to  lose  them  both  !  " 

"Two?" 

"Yes,  two:  a  good  one  and  a  middling  one.  First, 
you  had  the  chance  of  seizing  the  old  gentleman  by  the 
arm  and  restoring  him  to  his  fellow-citizens.  This, 
however,  I  consider  only  a  middling  chance,  seeing  that 
old  Bitterlin  will  never  prove  anything  else  than  an  im- 
possible father-in-law.     Secondly,  you  had  the  chance 


BADEN.  121 

of  seizing  him  only  by  the  wig,  and  this  I  consider  the 
good  one." — "  Why  so  ?" — "  Why,  the  wig  would  have 
remained  in  your  hands,  the  Captain  would  have  gone 
headforemost  fishing  for  trout,  and  then  you  could  marry 
his  daughter,  who  would  feel  that  that  was  the  least  re- 
turn she  could  make  you." 

Meo  answered  with  a  heavy  sigh : 

"  You  take  nothing  seriously." 

"  I  don't !  I  certainly  treat  the  situation  with  all  the 
gravity  it  admits  of  And,  look  here!  to  show  how 
willing  I  am  to  serve  you,  I  am  going  to  carry  you  off 
to-day." 

"  You  're  leaving  us  then  ! " 

"  O  gracious,  yes ;  I  'm  starting  off,  horse  and  foot. 
It  seems  the  bank  down  there  in  Baden  is  just  now  in 
fine  bleeding  humor.  They  talk  about  an  Austrian  who 
burst  it  two  or  three  times  one  day." 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  I  'm  going  to  enter  the  lists  in  my  turn,  and 
my  battle-cry  shall  be,  '  Saute  pour  Le  Roy  ! '  Allow 
me  my  little  joke.     Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"  But  what  shall  become  of  me  if  you  go  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  're  coming  with  me !  Listen.  I  'm  no 
longer  a  schoolboy,  I  know  the  world  a  little,  and  I 
want  no  spectacles  to  see  what  a  man  has  in  his  bag. 
Your  old  Bitterlin  is  a  bear  of  the  bad  kind,  of  the 
kind  they  don't  tame.  For  the  last  two  weeks  you  have 
been  stroking  him  on  the  back,  saying,  '  Poor  fellow ! 
good  fellow  ! '     What  have  you  gained  by  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  he  is  rather  familiar  with  me ;  he  snubs  me  a 

little,  and   gives   me   an   occasional   hard  rap  on  the 

knuckles :  that  counts  for  something,  you  know." 
11 


122  EOUOEETXOIR. 

"  Push  on,  keep  moving!  as  somebody  says.  At  that 
rate  you  '11  begin  to  have  a  chance  somewhere  about 
1958." 

"  No  matter,  I  can't  leave  her.  I  '11  follow  her  to 
the  last.  And  then,  who  knows  ?  perhaps  M.  Bitterlin 
will  be  moved  with  my  perseverance.  What  if  every- 
thing he  does  is  only  done  just  to  try  me?" 

"  You  might  as  well  say  that  the  cannon-balls  plunge 
through  the  ranks  only  just  to  try  the  soldiers.  The 
man  is  a  brute :  if  you  don't  like  the  word,  we  will 
only  say  he  is  brutified.  Pie  don't  like  you ;  he  don't 
like  his  daughter ;  he  likes  nothing  in  the  world,  not 
even  the  trout ;  and  if  you  ever  get  anything  out  of 
him,  it  won't  be  by  attacking  him  on  his  sentimental 
side.     I  have  said  my  say." 

"  But,  in  the  name  of  heaven,  how  should  I  attack 
him  then  ?  " 

"How  the  deuce  can  I  tell  you?  I  don't  know  any- 
thing about  the  handling  of  hedgehogs.  My  education, 
you  see,  has  in  some  points  been  very  much  neglected ! " 

Such  were  the  last  consolations  that  Meo  received 
from  his  friend.  Towards  the  end  of  breakfast,  M. 
Le  Roy  announced  his  intention  of  starting  immediately 
for  Baden.     The  Captain  replied,  quite  graciously  : 

"  Pleasant  journey,  gentlemen." 

"  But,"  stammered  Meo,  "  we  are  not  going  —  excuse 
me  —  the  gentleman  is  going  alone  —  however,  if  there 
is  no  objection  —  " 

"  What  difference  does  it  make  to  us  ? "  replied  the 
Captain.  "  Every  one  for  himself  in  travelling.  The 
gentleman  has  his  business,  he  goes  to  his  business  ; 
others  do  nothing  at  all ;  well,  then,  let  them  do  as  they 
please ! " 


BADEN.  123 

"Oh!  as  for  that  matter,"  said  the  Parisian,  "  my 
business  is  very  simple.  I  'm  going  to  pay  ten  thou- 
sand francs  to  a  worthy  man  who  won't  trouble  me  with 
a  receipt.  It  is  the  fashion  in  Paris.  Since  the  dis- 
covery of  California,  Australia,  and  all  kinds  of  coun- 
tries ending  in  ia,  gold  arrives  in  such  abundance,  that 
we  no  longer  know  where  to  stow  it.  It  incommodes  us, 
it  wearies  us,  it  tears  our  pockets,  it  gives  our  hands  the 
fidgets.  There's  no  standing  it,  on  my  word  of 
honor !  What  do  we  do  then  ?  We  go  to  Baden  for 
the  waters,  and  we  come  away  perfectly  cured." 

M.  Bitterlin's  brow  grew  as  black  as  night.  "  You 
are  a  gambler?"  said  he.  "I  should  have  readily 
believed  that  of  many  other  people, —  of  this  gentleman 
for  instance,  —  but  never  of  you.  As  for  me,  Vv'henever 
I  am  asked  to  take  a  hand,  it  has  been  always  ray  uni- 
form habit  to  reply,  '  I  'm  neither  poor  enough  to  be 
in  want  of  your  money,  nor  rich  enough  to  make  you  a 
present  of  mine.'  " 

"  But,  sir,  I  have  had  rich  uncles  enough  to  make  me 
win  without  pleasure  and  lose  without  regret.  I  com- 
menced at  Paris  by  playing  cards  among  a  set  of  rich 
young  fellows.  It  is  well  understood  that  when  friends 
have  dined  together,  the  best  way  to  get  sober  again  is 
by  exchanging  bits  of  painted  pasteboard.  This  kind 
of  soda-water  cost  me  a  good  deal  more  than  the 
apothecary's.  Sometimes  I  lost,  sometimes  I  won  ;  but 
as  there  were  ladies  always  in  the  party,  I  generally  got 
home  without  a  cent,  tired  out  with  a  stupid  night,  my 
nails  dirty,  ray  head  heavy,  and  my  face  sallow.  I 
slept  next  day  till  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  endless 
ghosts  of  Right  Bowers   and   Left   Bowers   fluttering 


124  ROUGE     ETNOIK. 

arouncl  my  pillow.  After  two  or  three  years  of  practice 
of  this  kind,  which  had  gained  for  me  no  enviable  repu- 
tation, I  at  last  formed  quite  an  heroic  resolution.  I  dug 
a  channel  for  my  vice.  Gaming  cost  me  on  an  average 
five  hundred  napoleons  a  year,  without  counting  health, 
reputation,  temjier,  and  all  my  friends,  whom  I  never 
saw  again  because  I  lent  them  money.  I  find  it  prefer- 
able every  way  to  lose  ten  thousand  francs  once  a  year 
at  Baden :  it  is  less  compromising,  less  tiresome,  more 
healthy,  and  sooner  over.  I  am  always  sure  that  the 
Bank  has  no  trumps  hid  away  in  his  sleeve,  and  I  'm 
perfectly  certain  that  he  won't  borrow  twenty-five  louis 
of  me  to  pay  for  a  carriage  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. If,  in  spite  of  every  impossibility,  I  should  happen 
to  win,  I  can  pocket  the  stakes  without  shame,  and 
without  the  consciousness  of  carrying:  off  the  bread  be- 
longing  to  some  poor  family.  The  Bank  is  a  bodiless 
Personage;  you  can  swoop  on  fifty  thousand  of  his 
francs  at  Rouge  et  Noir  without  being  afraid  of  hearing 
next  day  that  he  has  blown  his  brains  out.  If,  on  the* 
contrary,  it  is  the  Bank  that  snaps  up  my  money,  there 's 
no  danger  of  any  one  going  to  brag  about  it  in  the  four 
quarters  of  Paris,  and  destroying  ray  credit  by  asserting 
that  I  'm  ruined.     These  are  my  reasons." 

"  What,  sir !  "  replied  the  Captain,  "  you  are  young, 
intelligent,  well-bred,  far  better  bred  than  this  gentle- 
man for  instance,  and  yet  you  've  got  no  better  way  to 
spend  your  time  and  money  than  that?  You  should 
try  to  do  something !  Yes,  confound  it,  you  should  do 
something !  " 

"Alas!  sir,  ray  studies  don't  qualify  rac  to  be  a  ma- 
chinist, a  hatter,  nor  a  professor  in  the  Sorbonne.     I 


BADEN.  125 

miglit  Indeed  have  begged  for  some  government  employ- 
ment, as  well  as  any  other  fool  that  dances  attendance  in 
the  ante-chambers  of  the  administration.  Bat  no,  thank 
you,  that  kind  of  sport  don't  suit  me ;  it  is  too  uncer- 
tain. I  might  have  gambled  in  the  stocks,  and  so  I 
Avould  too,  only  I  could  never  learn  the  rules  of  the 
game.  Besides,  at  such  a  play  I  could  easily  lose  more 
than  I  'm  worth,  and  I  should  not  be  pleased  to  find  my 
honor  gone  with  the  rest  some  fine  morning.  At  last, 
my  only  resource  left  was  to  get  married.  But  of  all 
gambling  speculations,  perhaps  the  very  worst  is  matri- 
mony. Not  only  is  it  likely  that  you  don't  win  the 
prize  you  want,  but  the  great  probability  is  that  you  do 
win  the  prize  you  don't  want,  and  that  for  a  lifetime 
too  !  So  then.  Captain,  that  is  the  reason  why  I  invite 
you  to  drink  a  glass  of  Chartreuse  to  the  good  city  of 
Baden  and  to  M.  Benazet,  its  prophet." 

"  You  '11  excuse  me,"  said  the  Captain.  "  My  opin- 
ions on  the  subject  are  unalterable,  and  with  heart  and 
soul  do  I  support  the  noble  idea  of  the  statesman 
who  succeeded  in  putting  down  public  gambling  in 
Paris." 

"Of  course!     He   did  well!     Who    maintains   the 

contrary  ?   Paris  is  swarming  with  young  men,  who  are 

continually  carrying  backwards  and  forwards  bags  of 

money  for  their  employers.     If  we  still  had  a  "  113" 

or  a  " Frascati"  these  poor  fellows  would  come  back 

empty-handed,   and    France   could   never   get   galleys 

enough  to  lodge  them  comfortably.     But   Baden  is  a 

hundred  and  fifty  leagues  from  Paris ;  it  costs  something 

to  get  there,  something  to  lodge  there,  something   to 

eat  twice  a  day  there ;  and  when  a  man  has  the  means 
11* 


120  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

of  supporting  all  this  expense,  the  green  table  does  him 
very  little  harm  in  relieving  him  of  his  extra  money." 

The  Captain  blew  his  nose  with  great  solemnity,  and 
then  replied : 

*'  You  have  no  difficulty  in  expressing  yourself,  sir. 
You  and  your  friend  here  belong  to  a  society  that  is 
destined  to  come  to  a  bad  end  some  day  or  other  by  its 
love  for  paradox.  But  an  officer  arrived  at  my  age 
never  denies  the  principles  that  have  been  his  guide 
through  life.  Gaming,  like  every  other  means  of  ac- 
quiring riches  without  labor,  is  in  itself  morally  wrong. 
I  have  forbidden  it  to  my  subalterns  and  my  soldiers,  I 
have  forbidden  it  to  myself,  and  I  would  sooner  re- 
nounce the  name  of  Bitterlin  forever  than  deviate  one 
jot  or  tittle  from  the  line  that  honor  has  traced  out  for 
me.  '  Strait-laced '  and  '  innocent '  as  much  as  you  like  ! 
But  it  is  with  strait-laced  innocents  like  me  that  Lycur- 
gus  the  Spartan  conquered  the  world  !  " 

"  But  did  he  conquer  the  world  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  of  course  he  did.  I  shall  not  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  again  at  Baden.  That  locality 
had  been  included  in  my  route,  but  now  that  you  have 
acquainted  me  with  the  kind  of  life  led  there,  Baden 
will  have  to  provide  means  to  do  without  my  pres- 
ence ! " 

Little  Madame  Moring,  who  seldom  spoke  to  any 
one  but  her  husband,  now  exclaimed  loudly  against 
such  a  resolution. 

"  My  good  gracious !  then,  sir,  you  're  very  wrong," 
said  she.  "Before  I  married  my  dear  Fritz,  I  spent  a 
season  at  Baden,  and  I  never  so  much  as  heard  one 
word  spoken  about  play.     It  is  a  delightful  country, 


BADEHr.  127 

shady,  sylvan,  verdant,  poetic  as  one  of  our  Gessner's 
idyls.  You  meet  the  best  society  in  Germany  there ; 
aulic  councillors,  canon  esses  of  noble  blood,  knights  of 
the  Eed  Eagle,  and  even  reigning  Highnesses.  Half  of 
our  time  was  passed  in  excursions  through  the  Black 
Forest,  in  picnics  up  in  the  Old  Castle,  at  the  '  Bear,' 
or  at  the  ^Horn;'  the  rest  went  in  concerts,  horse- 
races, balls,  and  plays.  We  had  French  actors,  and 
pieces  written  expressly  for  us  by  the  first  authors  of 
Paris.  I  spent  three  months  there,  and  the  only  play- 
ing I  ever  saw  was  at  the  theatre  or  the  opera." 

She  finished  her  little  speech  suifused  with  blushes, 
and  kissed  her  husband's  hand  to  keep  herself  in  coun- 
tenance. 

"Madame  tells  the  truth,"  replied  M.  Le  Roy. 
"Nine-tenths  of  the  travellers  who  lose  their  money  at 
Baden  are  attracted  there  by  such  baits.  The  landscapes 
of  the  Black  Forest,  —  baits  !  The  Highnesses  of  Ger- 
many, —  baits  !  Eaces,  hunts,  plays,  concerts,  —  baits, 
baits,  baits!  I  have  remarked  that  all  the  walks  in 
the  Park  sloped  down  gently  towards  the  green  table 
in  the  Conversations  Haus.  I  have  met  Highnesses 
out  promenading,  and,  without  thinking  of  it,  they  led 
me  straight  to  the  roulette-table.  I  have  run  a  steeple- 
chase in  a  puce-colored  jacket,  and  even  wou  a  prize  of 
two  thousand  francs ;  but  I  was  not  long  in  losing  it 
back  again,  and  twi-ce  as  much  besides,  at  Rouge  et  Noir. 
I  only  just  changed  my  dress,  and,  presto!  my  money 
had  changed  masters.  Our  artists  go  there  to  draw  the 
public  from  other  resorts,  but  they  are  requested  to  sing 
false  so  as  to  send  their  audience  to  the  gaming-table. 
Our  celebrated  authors  write  plays  for  Baden,  but  they 


128  BOUOE    ET    NOIR. 

are  ordered  to  make  them  as  tiresome  as  possible,  so 
that  the  crowds,  attracted  by  the  name,  are  repelled  by 
the  piece.  Now  and  then  a  stag  is  hunted  in  the  Black 
Forest,  but  still,  with  a  sharp  eye  for  business,  the  beast 
is  hardly  cold  before  the  hunters  are  shelled  out.  For 
my  part,  however,  I  don't  complain,  for  I  know  very 
•well  what  I  'm  going  to  do  at  Baden.  It  is  not  the 
bait  that  draws  me  there  but  the  hook." 

"  Yes,"  added  M.  INIori ng,  with  a  keen,  quiet  smile. 
"  Great  is  the  difference  between  the  country  we  are  in 
and  the  country  we  are  going  to.  Excuse  me,  if  I 
express  myself  badly  in  a  language  not  my  own.  It 
seems  to  me  that  Mother  Switzerland  is  a  good,  stout  old 
lady,  who  gives  us  plenty  to  eat  and  drink  in  a  splendid 
hotel,  where  the  wall-jiaper  is  painted  with  moun- 
tains, waterfalls,  and  chalets.  She  is  the  widow,  she 
says,  of  a  celebrated  man  that  nobody  has  ever  seen,  and 
whose  very  existence  is  contested  ;  still  she  puts  his  por- 
trait on  every  chimney-piece  in  the  house,  an  apple  in  one 
of  his  hands,  and  a  bow  in  the  other.  You  are  not  com- 
pelled to  believe  everything  she  chooses  to  tell  about  the 
deceased  ;  but  as  she  is  a  kind,  good  soul,  and  has  treated 
you  well,  you  kiss  her  on  both  cheeks  at  parting,  and 
you  promise  to  yourself  to  return.  As  for  Mademoiselle 
Baden,  she  is  a  young  lady,  very  brilliant,  very  well 
dressed ;  she  rides  on  horseback,  she  hunts,  she  dances, 
she  sings,  she  acts  comedy,  all  in  the  perfection  of  fash- 
!ion;  but  she  makes  free  with  her  friends'  purses  and 
sends  them  away  empty-handed.  She  is,  however,  none 
the  less  pretty  for  all  that." 

The  conversation  now  became  general,  as  usually  hap- 
pens at  a  tabic  d'hote  when  one  of  the  guests  has  begun 


BADEX.  129 

to  speak  aloud.  Out  of  the  twenty-two  persons  who 
breakfasted  together  that  morning  at  the  Falls  of  the 
Rhine,  fourteen  had  become  acquainted  with  Baden  by- 
losing  money  there.  These  competent  judges  unani- 
mously decided,  that  to  avoid  Baden  was  easy  enough, 
but  that,  once  there,  a  saint  himself  would  be  compelled 
by  iron  necessity  to  empty  his  pockets. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  M.  Moriug  to  the  Captain,  "  you  do 
well  to  change  your  route.  However  great  may  be  your 
firmness,  it  would  bend  like  an  iron  rod  in  the  furnace. 
I  '11  not  cite  you  my  own  personal  experience,  for  when- 
ever I  had  to  pass  through  Baden,  I  always  provided 
myself  beforehand  with  an  extra  sum  for  roulette.  But 
here's  a  little  anecdote  which  may  perhaps  aid  you 
somewhat  in  your  reflections.  A  pastor  of  my  country, 
the  venerable  M.  Leuckel,  went  to  Baden  in  1854,  to 
collect  materials  for  a  great  sermon  against  gambling. 
He  was  accompanied  by  his  wife  and  his  two  daughters. 
I  saw  the  whole  four  of  them  myself,  the  second  day  after 
their  arrival,  with  a  little  card  in' one  hand  and  a  pin  in 
the  other,  seated  around  the  Rouge  et  Noir  table.  Tlie 
little  family  had  already  lost  as  much  as  fifteen  hundred 
florins." 

"And  the  sermon?"  asked  M.  Le  Roy. 

"  I  heard  it  the  following  winter.  It  was  magnifi- 
cent, sir.  It  moved  the  whole  audience  to  tears,  par- 
ticularly Madame  Leuckel." 

"  What  does  all  that  prove  ?  "  observed  the  Captain, 
roughly.  "  Just  that  your  pastor  was  no  man  of  prin- 
ciple. Now,"  he  added,  modestly  lowering  his  voice,  "  I 
am  a  man  of  principle  — " 

"  But  even  the  just  man  falls  seven  times  a  day." 


130  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"Never  in  tlie  regiment,  sir.  What  authority  could 
I  liave  exercised  over  my  men,  if  I  had  not  always 
preached  by  example?  There's  no  better  preacher  liv- 
ing than  an  officer  without  a  fault,  as  I  flatter  myself  I 
have  been,  I  know  all  kinds  of  games,  and  I  am  even 
a  pretty  keen  hand  at  them.  At  piquet,  at  dominoes, 
at  billiards,  the  very  best  of  you  might  find  me  an  ugly 
customer ;  but  nobody  can  boast  of  having  ever  seen  me 
win  or  lose  anything,  not  even  so  much  as  a  glass  of 
absinthe  or  a  cup  of  coffee  !  " 

"No  matter  for  that,"  said  M.  Le  Roy,  "you  do  well 
to  keep  clear  of  Baden.  The  best  means  of  avoiding 
sin  is  to  fly  from  temptation." 

"  What  temptation  ?  For  me  it  would  be  no  tempta- 
tion whatever !  — " 

Loud  expressions  of  dissent  came  from  all  sides. 

"No,"  he  resumed,  "not  the  least  temptation  in  the 
world,  and  here's  my  proof.  I  will  continue  my  route 
the  same  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  I  will  go  straight 
to  Baden.  I  will  pass  a  whole  day  at  the  gaming-table 
with  money  in  my  pockets,  and  you  will  see  if  I  ven- 
ture even  a  ten-cent  piece." 

"  Will  you  take  a  bet  on  it?" 

"  No,  sir.  In  the  first  place,  it  would  be  robbing 
you  of  your  money ;  and  in  the  second  place,  I  am  a 
man  of  principle,  and  betting  is  gambling." 

The  Captain  spoke  so  loud  and  with  such  decision, 
that  public  opinion  veered  round  a  little.  M.  Le  Roy 
certainly  was  a  little  too  generous  in  handing  his  own 
failin<rs  over  to  others.  To  insist  to  a  man's  face  that 
he's  going  to  begin  gambling,  though  he  has  never  done 
anything  of  the  kind  for  sixty  years,  rather  borders  on 


BADEN.  131 

impertinence.  Mr.  Plum  offered  a  bet  of  twenty  pounds 
that  the  Captain  would  not  play.  M.  Le  Roy  accepted 
it  at  once,  and  then  took  leave  of  the  company. 

This  departure,  depriving  Meo  of  his  ally,  surrendered 
him  up,  bound  hand  and  foot,  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
M.  Bitterlin.  The  cantankerous  old  man  now  spoke  to 
him  willingly  and  familiarly  enough,  but  it  was  not 
because  he  had  become  one  bit  more  kindly  disposed 
towards  him.  If,  in  his  normal  condition  in  Paris,  and 
at  rest,  the  Captain  could  be  considered  a  noxious  ani- 
mal, travelling  had  only  rendered  him  worse.  Con- 
stant motion,  bracing  air,  change  of  diet,  all  the  details 
of  travelling,  develop  in  a  man  a  superabundance  of  life 
•which  is  not  likely  to  turn  wolves  into  sheej).  It  is  a 
kind  of  plethora,  a  lustihood,  a  rage  of  the  senses,  an 
unchaining  of  the  energies.  Never  had  the  Captain's 
ill-temper  blazed  out  with  more  brilliant  venom ;  never 
had  the  old  chords  of  his  excessive  sensitiveness  grated 
more  harshly  at  the  slightest  touch.  With  his  daughter 
he  tried  to  be  gentle,  because  she  had  once  held  her  own 
with  him,  because  he  expected  in  time  to  bring  her  back 
to  his  own  way  of  thinking,  and  because  people  were 
present;  domestic  tyrants,  when  out  in  the  world,  are 
always  on  their  guard.  But  an  unfortunate  stranger 
who  sought  his  friendship,  who  surrendered  to  him 
without  a  murmur,  who  accepted  his  kicks  with  grati- 
tude —  he  of  course  was  the  victim  destined  to  bear  all 
the  weight  of  his  perverse  temper.  Accordingly,  in  a 
few  days,  Meo  became  his  target,  his  hack,  his  patented 
victim.  He  abused  the  mild  temper  of  the  Italian 
most  shamefully.  He  treated  him  the  more  waspishly 
as  Meo  was  handsome  and  himself  ugly,  as  Meo  was 


132  HOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

tall  aiul  himself  short.  Men  of  short  stature,  when 
allowed  their  way,  are  implacable.  The  stranger's  res- 
ignation, which  would  have  disarmed  lions  and  tigers, 
only  excited  the  little  Captain  to  greater  fury ;  he  only 
plunged  his  sharp  talons  and  his  rending  beak  with 
grimmer  satisfaction  into  this  unresisting  and  bleeding 
flesh. 

Meo  never,  not  even  once,  thought  of  strangling  the 
wicked  animal,  though  to  do  so  would  have  been  mere 
child's  play  to  him.  With  the  resignation  of  a  martyr 
he  followed  a  path  strewed  with  thorns.  Not  only  in 
private  was  he  perfectly  submissive,  but  even  in  public, 
before  dozens  of  witnesses,  would  he  patiently  pocket 
all  kinds  of  insults.  More  than  once  he  caught  in  the 
eyes  of  his  companions  looks  of  compassion  that  sent 
the  blood  boiling  up  to  his  brain  ;  but  his  love  was  of  a 
robust  constitution,  and  a  glance  from  Emma  amply 
consoled  him  for  everything.  Frenchmen  could  never 
bear  such  treatment,  because  their  vanity  constitutes 
more  than  the  half  of  even  their  most  serious  passions. 


AITRELIA.  133 

CHAPTER  IX. 

AURELIA. 

THE  departure  of  M.  Le  Eoy  was  the  signal  for  the 
general  breaking  up  of  the  party.  Tlie  little 
caravan  was  totally  dispersed  in  four  or  five  days.  One 
took  the  right,  the  other  the  left,  and  all  promised  to" 
meet  together  ao;ain  at  Baden-Baden ;  for  Swiss  tours 
always  end  thei-e.  INIeo  himself  was  obliged  to  separate, 
as  soon  as  he  found  himself  the  last  one  left  with  the 
Captain  and  his  daugliter:  too  obstinate  a  fidelity  would 
have  ended  by  compromising  him. 

He  left  them  then,  with  death  in  his  heart,  and  his 
j)Ockets  almost  empty.  It  was  at  Freiburg  in  the 
Breisgau,  in  one  of  the  best  hotels,  that  he  took  leave 
of  the  intractable  father-in-law.  That  very  morning, 
in  the  railway-carriage,  he  had  managed  to  whisper  his 
adieu  to  Emma.  The  Captain,  who  looked  on  him  as 
too  ridiculous  to  be  dangerous,  had  fallen  asleep  be- 
fore his  face.  Meo,  therefore,  had  time  enough  to  paint 
all  his  grief  and  despair,  to  recapitulate  all  that  he  had 
done  and  suffered,  and  to  put  in  a  clear  light  the  utter 
vanity  of  his  efforts  and  the  complete  extinction  of  his 
resources.  He  proved  clearly  to  the  young  girl  that  her 
father  would  never  think  of  yielding,  which,  however, 
did  not  require  much  demonstration.  He  described  the 
exhausted  condition  of  his  soul,  broken  by  a  useless 
struggle,  and  incapable  of  rallying  to  a  new  assault. 
His  patience  even  was  worn  out,  and  he  felt  he  had  not 

strength  enough  left  him  to  wait  for  the  time  when 
12 


134  ROJJGE    ET    NOIR. 

Eiumu  could  legally  become  his.  The  end  of  two  years 
seemed  to  him  farther  off  than  the  end  of  the  world;  he 
Avas  sure  of  dying  long  before  that.  For  even  suppos- 
ing sickness  of  heart  did  not  kill  him  by  that  time, 
jDOverty  would  be  sure  to  Jo  the  business.  His  financial 
report  gave  the  last  touch  to  the  already  too  gloomy 
picture.  He  told  her  how  his  modest  resources  were 
completely  exhausted,  how  the  situation  that  had  sup- 
ported him  was  abandoned,  and  how,  even  if  he  still 
held  it,  the  violence  of  his  passion  rendered  anything 
like  labor  absolutely  intolerable.  Such  an  artless 
avowal,  which  would  Imve  perhaps  extinguished  all  love 
in  a  woman  less  captivated,  only  redoubled  Emma's 
interest  and  tender  affection.  Six  months  before,  she 
might  have  perhaps  repelled  with  disdain  a  man  Avith- 
out  fortune  or  prospects ;  but  woman's  love,  after  it  has 
acquired  a  certain  headway,  is  not  to  be  extinguished  by 
obstacles :  they  rather  fan  it  and  make  it  blaze  more 
fiercely.  It  is  like  a  house  on  fire,  water  only  adds  fuel 
to  the  flames.  The  innocent  little  creature  promised  to 
do  everything  in  her  power  —  to  die  with  ^Nleo  if  she 
could  not  live  with  him.  Of  all  the  oaths  that  passion 
dictates  to  young  people,  this  is  the  easiest  to  keep :  the 
annals  of  love  are  full  of  double  suicides.  Meo,  with- 
out hesitation,  adopted  this  heroic  remedy,  which,  how- 
ever, has  never  remedied  anything.  Pie  considered  it 
perfectly  natural  that  Emma  should  be  willing  to  die 
with  him,  and  the  thought  never  once  occurred  to  him 
that  it  was  his  stern  duty  to  refuse  with  horror  the  ac- 
ceptance of  any  such  sacrifice. 

What  clearly  proves  the  innocence  of  these  two  great 
babies  is,  that  they  rushed  right  straight  to  this  extrem- 


AURELIA.  135 

ity  without  stopping,  even  mentally,  at  any  intermediate 
station.  Tliey  never  examined  if  the  problem  of  their 
destiny  presented  any  solution  less  legitimate  than  mar- 
riage and  less  disagreeable  than  death.  As  soon  as  they 
considered  it  plainly  demonstrated  that  fate  would  not 
permit  their  union,  their  only  reflection  thenceforward 
was,  wdiich  of  all  the  roads  leading  into  the  other  world 
they  should  select.  Fortunately,  before  they  had  made 
a  choice,  M.  Bitterlin  awoke,  and  the  final  decision  was 
deferred  until  the  next  interview% 

After  Meo's  departure,  when  the  Captain  found  him- 
self alone  with  his  daughter,  the  first  quarter  of  an  hour 
was  not  altogether  without  embarrassment.  It  was  not 
Emma  that  felt  herself  uneasy.  Her  resolution  had 
been  so  decided,  and  her  determination  was  so  fixed  and 
unalterable,  that  she  no  longer  considered  herself  an  in- 
habitant of  the  earth.  She  was  gazing  at  the  other 
world  through  a  keyhole,  as  it  were,  waiting  till  her 
lover  came  and  opened  the  door.  The  Captain,  who 
had  no  such  grounds  for  tranquillity  of  soul,  felt  himself 
rather  unpleasantly  ill  at  ease.  Ever  since  the  w^ar 
which  his  daughter  had  dared  to  wage  against  him,  and 
the  truce  which  had  been  concluded  at  their  departure 
from  Paris,  he  had  never  had  ten  minutes'  conversation 
in  succession  with  the  fair  insurgent.  If  he  had  ever 
found  himself  alone  with  her,  it  was  generally  at  night, 
when  travellers  are  only  thinking  of  going  to  bed.  On 
such  occasions,  a  little  kiss,  very  dry,  supplied  the  place 
of  all  discourse ;  then  they  both  retired  to  their  own 
rooms,  closing  the  door  of  communication  without  lock- 
ing it.  But  the  day  that  the  two  adversaries  saw  them- 
selves, after  breakfast,  face  to  face  for  the  first   time, 


136  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

without  witnesses,  in  a  large  room  tapestried  witli  the 
adventures  of  Psyche,  Emma  shut  herself  up  in  a  list- 
less silence,  playing  on  the  plate  with  the  point  of  lier 
fork,  whilst  the  Captain  was  laboriously  searching  some 
means  of  breaking  the  ice.  He  found  no  better  way  to 
begin  than  by  passing  in  review  all  the  failings  and 
ridiculous  points  of  the  companion  who  had  just  left 
them  :  it  was  just  his  usual  tact.  He  pitched  into  Meo 
with  great  spirit;  he  lashed  himself  into  fury  over  him 
and  tore  him  to  pieces  with  decided  satisfaction.  The 
dear  man  had  two-edged  fangs,  like  those  ill-traincd 
spaniels  that  cannot  bring  back  a  partridge  without 
butchering  it.  Emma  let  him  have  his  say,  without 
even  shrugging  her  shoulders ;  but  her  eyes  expressed 
the  deep  and  implacable  disdain  of  a  devotee  who  hears 
his  god  blasphemed. 

The  orator  was  not  long  in  jumping  from  particulars 
to  generals ;  he  extended  to  all  young  men  of  the  pres- 
ent day  the  judgment  that,  he  had  passed  on  Meo,  and 
proved  clearly  that  no  woman  could  decently  fall  in  love 
with  such  baboons.  Emma  did  not  maintain  the  con- 
trary. Encouraged  by  this  approving  silence,  he  ad- 
vanced gradually,  and  began  to  scold  his  daughter  for 
what  he  called  her  crotchets.  He  reproached  her  for 
having  placed  no  confidence  in  him ;  he  congratulated 
himself  on  the  good  eifects  of  the  trip,  and  he  rejoiced 
at  seeing  the  family  once  more  reconciled.  He  went 
still  further,  for  he  was  by  no  means  delicacy  personified. 
He  ventured  to  tell  his  child  that  her  deceased  mother's 
conduct  had  been,  if  not  exactly  guilty,  at  least  light; 
that  she  had  rendered  him  unhappy  ;  that  he  had  a  right 
to  some  compensation,  and  that  he  expected  to  find  it  in 


AURELIA.  137 

his  dauglitcr's  fidelity  and  goo.d  conduct.  "  And  what 
do  I  ask?"  he  continued.  "Just  that  you  help  me  to 
die  in  peace,  without  being  obliged  to  change  any  of  my 
old  habits.  I  have  bread  enough  for  my  old  days,  my 
health  is  not  bad,  this  head  of  mine  is  one  of  the  solidest 
that  nature  has  put  together  since  Napoleon's  time ;  all 
I  want  is  tranquillity.  If  you  had  obstinately  persisted 
in  your  folly,  you  would  have  been  a  parricide,  neither 
more  nor  less.  You  would  have  disordered  my  affairs 
and  made  a  beggar  of  me  in  the  first  place.  And  then 
what?  Would  you  have  left  me  all  alone,  like  an  old 
Pariah,  in  order  to  go  off  and  plunge  into  dissipation 
with  your  husband?  Or  w^ould  you  have  brought  into 
my  house  a  gentleman  that  I  know  nothing  about,  who 
cannot  enter  into  my  ideas,  who  would  want  to  be  the 
master  and  ride  rough-shod  over  me  ?  You  have  too 
good  a  heart.  If  you  were  capable  of  such  infamous 
conduct,  it  would  be  simply  because  you  had  never  been 
my  child  at  all,  and  your  mother  had  perjured  herself 
on  her  death-bed  in  swearing  that  you  were  !  " 

Emma  replied  not,  wept  not,  showed  neither  sorrow 
nor  anger.  Against  the  assailing  selfishness  of  her 
fatlier,  she  took  refuge  in  the  absorbing  selfishness  of 
her  love. 

In  the  meantime,  Meo  arrived  at  Baden  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Victoria  Hotel,  where  M.  Le  Rov  had 
promised  to  meet  him.  He  found  him  in  his  dressing- 
gown  at  five  o'clock  in  the  evening,  in  the  midst  of  the 
strangest  kind  of  furniture.  The  bureau,  the  cenfre-table, 
the  dressing-table,  and  even  the  floor,  were  hidden  from 
sight  by  an  innumerable  quantity  of  blue,  green,  or  red 

crystals ;  multitudes  of  notions  in  white  wood,  Swiss  cot- 
12*. 


138  ROUGEETNOIR. 

tages,  boxes,  paper-knives,  and  clocks  of  the  Bkick  For- 
est, completed  the  curious  assortment.  Tiie  owner  of 
so  many  Monders  was  walking  up  and  down,  more 
gloomv  in  the  midst  of  his  treasures  than  Marius  amonaf 


i-> 


& 


the  ruins  of  Carthage.  As  soon  as  he  saw  his  old  com- 
panion, he  jumped  to  welcome  him. 

"By  Jove,"  he  exclaimed,  "you  arrive  in  good 
time  !     Have  you  any  money  ?  " 

"  Eleven  napoleons,  at  your  service." 

"  Hurrah  !     You  're  a  Croesus." 

"You  think  so?  That  constitutes  the  sum  total  of 
my  fortune  at  present  and  to  come." 

"  He  has  eleven  napoleons  at  Baden,  and  yet  he  com- 
plains !  First  of  all,  my  dear  fellow,  you  invite  me  to 
dinner." 

"  With  all  my  heart." 

"  Oh  !  but  wait  a  moment.     I  'm  going  to  bring  the 

Duke  of  S and  Prince  D ,  two  friends  of  mine, 

who,  like  myself,  have  nt)t  yet  breakfasted.  Be  civil 
with  them  j  they  are  a  pair  of  millionaires." 

Meo's  eyes  opened  wide. 

"  You  don't  understand  me,"  continued  the  Parisian. 
"  I  'm  cleaned  out,  my  boy,  and  these  gentlemen,  too, 
and  many  others  besides,  whom,  however,  I  shall  not 
bring  for  fear  of  abusing  your  hospitality.  For  the 
last  two  days,  the  Bank  has  been  simply  awful.  Only 
think :  if  I  had  packed  up  and  left  Baden  the  night  be- 
fore last,  I  should  have  carried  off  sixty  thousand  francs, 
clear  winnings!  I  began  by  winning  everything  before 
rae;  first  a  series  of  reds,  then  a  series  of  blacks.  I 
was  holding  on  valiantly  to  black,  when  all  at  once,  by 
pure  inspiration,  I  scent  a  turn  in  the  luck  :  I  halve  my 


AURELIA.  139 

stake,  and  then  stop  altogether.  Crack !  The  bank 
has  a  'refaW  and  cleans  the  board.  Hadn't  I  a  good 
nose  ?  I  go  back  to  the  red,  and  the  luck  follows  me. 
Ten  reds  in  succession  !  As  I  was  the  leader,  I  did 
very  well  for  myself  and  for  others  too.  Every  one 
punted  with  me;  there  weren't  two  louis  on  the  black. 
Unfortunately,  the  clock  struck  twelve.  It  would  have 
taken  us  no  more  than  another  half-hour  to  break  the 
bank ! " 

"  I  must  warn  you,"  interrupted  Meo,  "  that  I  do  not 
understand  the  game  you  are  speaking  of." 

"  You  '11  know  it  well  enough  only  too  soon,  my  poor 
friend :  it  is  horribly  simple.  Then  I  came  back  to 
this  room,  yes,  to  this  very  cursed  room,  with  my 
seventy  thousand  francs  in  notes,  napoleons,  fredericks ; 
there  was  even  a  florin  among  the  lot.  Next  morning, 
as  soon  as  I  opened  my  eyes,  I  registered  a  vow  not  to 
play  again  for  a  year.  I  visited  the  stores  to  amuse 
myself  innocently  in  making  'purchases  of  no  account. 
I  gave  five-franc  pieces  to  the  beggars ;  I  lent  handfuls 
of  gold  to  some  friends  of  mine  that  had  been  run  dry 
—  an  investment  for  winter,  you  understand.  I  took 
a  carriage-ride  out  in  the  country,  and  I  found  the 
scenery  very  fine ;  I  thought  every  leaf  I  saw  was  signed 
by  the  President  of  the  Bank  of  France.  Oh,  why 
did  n't  I  go  back  to  France  ?  Ah  !  yes  indeed,  why 
did  n't  I  ?  Stop,  it 's  your  fault !  I  had  promised  to 
meet  you  here !  It  is  you  who  have  ruined  me. 
Here 's  a  man  that  costs  me  seventy  thousand  francs ! 
Ten  thousand  I  don't  regret ;  they  had  been  brought 
here  to  be  lost.  But  those  sixty  thousand  were  not  in- 
tended to  be  lost,  and  the  proof  of  that  is,  that  I  had 


1 40  R  O  U  G  E     K  T    X  O  I  R  . 

won  them  !     "Well,  to  stop  my  mouth,  you  have,  got  to 
feed  rae.     I  am  waiting  for  money  :  a  good  many  of  us 
here  are  very  mucli  interested  in  the  arrival  of  the  mail. 
But  the  post-ofliee  here  is  behind  the  times,  a  poor  one- 
liorse  affair.     I  thought  for  a  moment  of  raising  money 
with  the  faney  goods  you  see  lying  around  here.     But 
those  who  sold  them  won't  take  them  back  unless  at  a 
reduction  of  eighty-five  per  cent. !     They  say  they  are 
all  ugly  and  in  bad  taste,  and  I  'm  beginning  to  be  of 
their  opinion.     Do  you  want  a  pretty  Swiss  cottage,  my 
.pf)or  Narni?    or  a  cuckoo-clock?  or    a    horn    of    blue 
crystal?     Hey!    it   is   broken!     Brittle   gimcrackery! 
touch  them  with  your  foot  and  they  fly  into  shivers  1 
Take  care,  don't  tread  on  that  glass,  my  brave.     Walk 
over  this  way  among  the  cottages,  it  is  more  rural. 
Apropos!     How  is  your  love  affair  getting  on?  is  the 
pretty  blonde  right  well  ?  have  you  tamed  the  old  Mo- 
hican? I  bet  you  have  n't.     Have  they  arrived  here  yet? 
I  have  ventured  twenty-five  louis  on  his  head  ;  I  should 
take  it  very  kind  of  him  to  let  me  win  them  just  now. 
Ah!    I  was  forgetting.     We  have  a  lady   from  your 
country  in  the  Royal  Hotel.     She  knows  you  ;  I  think 
she  knows  you  very  well :  I  'm  sure  she  speaks  very 
well  of  you,  at  least.     A  splendid  woman !     Juno  in 
person  !     Sporting-men  call  her  the  great  Aurelia.     She 
won  five  thousand  francs  on  my  luck,  and  had  the  good 
sense  to  hold  on  to  them.    I  promised  her  your  visit.    Go 
see  her,  old  fellow ;  everything  consoles  a  little.     Hunts- 
men have  a  proverb  on  this  subject:     'For  want  of 
thrushes  we  must  be  satisfied  with  elephants.'    Heavens  ! 
how  amusing  you  look  with  that  corpse-face  of  yours ! 
Could  you  have  any  remote  intention  of  blowing  your 
brains  out  ?  " 


AURELIA.  141 

"  Yes,"  said  Meo ;  "  and  I  'm  only  waiting  for  the 
arrival  of  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin,  who  has  promised  to 
die  with  me." 

"  He  's  crazy  !  My  word  of  honor,  he  's  crazy  ! 
Why,  what  would  you  do  then,  you  unfortunate  fellow, 
if  you  had  lost  seventy  thousand  francs?" 

"  I  have  lost  ten  times  more,  and  the  loss  did  not  cost 
me  even  a  sigh.  It  is  a  different  thing  now.  My  life 
is  a  failure,  I  have  no  more  happiness  to  expect  in  this 
world,  so  I  quit  it." 

"Not  before  you  have  given  us  that  dinner,  anyhow  ! 
Let  me  slip  on  a  light  coat :  we  shall  pick  up  those 
gentlemen  on  our  road,  and  then  think  over  matters 
together  in  the  Restaurant." 

An  hour  after,  Meo  had  revealed  all  his  secrets  to  M. 
Le  Roy's  friends.  The  young  duke  and  the  petty  prince 
■  did  their  best  to  console  him,  swallowing  at  the  same 
time  the  most  substantial  kind  of  fare  they  could  find  on 
the  bill.  These  victims  of  gambling  thought  their  tem- 
porary poverty  a  capital  joke :  nothing  amuses  a  rich 
young  fellow  so  much  as  to  see  himself  reduced  to  des- 
titution for  a  day  or  two.  They  almost  choked  them- 
selves with  laughter  and  beans.  They  looked  on  Meo'e 
trouble  as  something  a  little,  but  very  little,  more  seri- 
ous than  their  own  misery.  They  knew  more  than  a 
hundred  remedies,  all  infallible,  against  despair  in  love. 
Each  one  extolled  the  treatment  that  he  considered  the 
safest  and  from  which  he  himself  had  derived  the  greatest 
benefit ;  but  they  all  three  agreed  unanimously  that  the 
Baden  waters  were  the  best  medicine  on  earth  for  curing 
all  affections  of  the  heart.  Meo  let  them  talk  away, 
and  they  made  him  drink  his  own  health  so  often  that 


142  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

lie  even  became  a  little  fuddled  ;  but  on  rising  from  the 
table  ho  would  readily  have  taken  poison  if  Made- 
moiselle Bitterlin  had  been  there  to  share  it  with  him. 
They  promenaded  him  around,  and  at  last  took  him 
to  the  Conversations  Hans  —  that  is  to  say,  the  house 
■where  the  gambling  is  carried  on.  Here  he  saw  hun- 
dreds of  pretty  girls  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe;  but 
life  with  another  woman  he  considered  less  acceptable 
than  death  with  Emma  : 

"To  live  with  them  were  far  less  sweet, 
Dear  love,  than  to  die  witli  thee!" 

M.  Le  Roy  pointed  out  to  him  the  Rouge  et  Noir 
table  in  the  next  room,  and  the  Roulette  table  near 
where-they  were  standing. 

"  Roulette  is  a  game  of  no  account,"  he  said,  "just  made 
for  children  that  want  to  be  amused.  Here  you  can  risk 
the  humblest  stake,  a  florin,  a  coin  worth  about  forty 
cents.  That  is  what  is  called  fiorining,  in  the  Baden 
language. 

"But  it  is  to  the  Rouge  et  Noir  table  that  men  resort, 
partly  because  the  bank  there  has  fewer  chances  in  its 
favor,  but  particularly  because  it  gives  the  player  an 
opportunity  for  exercising  his  skill.  However,  if  you 
wish  to  try  ^\•hat  this  is  like,  just  put  a  napoleon  on 
the  last  six  numbers;  there,  look,  astride  on  the  two 
lines.  Good!  33  wins.  You  get  six  times  your 
stake.  It  was  a  lucky  hit  of  mine.  Take  them  up ! 
take  them  up  !  Those  six  napoleons  are  yours.  Now, 
wliat  do  you  think  of  lioulette?  Don't  you  think  that 
that  must  be  an  admirable  institution,  which,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  few  cents,  makes  you  forget  all  your  troubles 


AUEELIA.  143 

for  a  minute  or  two?  From  the  moment  you  laid  your 
money  on  the  table  until  the  instant  the  gentleman 
cried  out,  "  Thirty-three,  Red,  Pass,  Odd,"  you  thought 
neither  about  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin,  nor  the  ineffa- 
ble pleasure  of  dyi,ng  with  her  in  a  fit  of  colic.  And 
such  a  distraction,  the  most  powerful  in  the  world,  has 
cost  you  nothing;  it  has  even  won  for  you  a  hundred 
and  fifty  francs  !  Admirable,  is  n't  it  ?  But  what  will 
you  say  when  you  have  got  a  taste  of  Rouge  et  Noir  V 

Meo  tried  the  flavor  of  Rouge  et  Noir,  under  the 
eyes  of  his  guides.  This  game-,  the  easiest  of  all  games 
at  cards,  astonished  him  most  by  its  extreme  simplicity. 
He  wondered  to  himself  how  a  man  could  win  or  lose 
seventy  thousand  francs  in  a  few  minutes,  merely  because 
the  banker  had  dcaled  thirty-seven  points  for  the  Red 
and  thirty-eight  for  the  Black.  He  played  just  as  he 
was  told, — won,  lost,  W3n  again,  and  remained  as  indif- 
ferent to  his  gains  and  losses  as  though  the  gold  pieces 
■were  so  many  little  pebbles.  At  midnight,  he  went 
back  gloomily  to  his  hotel,  though  his  pockets  and 
those  of  his  friends  had  been  made  heavier  by  some 
hundreds  of  francs.  What  pleasure  could  he  take  in 
money  now  ?  Had  n't  he  more  than  enough  to  last  him 
for  the  little  time  he  was  still  to  live? 

He  had  forgotten  Mademoiselle  Aurelia,  but  he  met 
her  next  morning  under  the  beautiful  trees  of  the 
LichtentJiaL  The  poor  girl  uttered  a  loud  cry,  a 
regular  stage-scream,  and  ran  and  kissed  him  on  the 
two  cheeks,  to  the  great  scandal  of  an  English  family 
that  was  passing  by  at  the  time. 

"  My  dear  big  baby,"  she  exclaimed,  "  where  are  you 
coming  from?  where  are  you  going  to  ?  are  you  happy?" 


144  ROUGE    ETNOIR. 

lie  answered,  M'ith  visible  embarrassment,  that  lie  had 
arrived  the  jjrevions  evenini^,  that  lie  had  been  aware  of 
her  presence  in  Baden-Baden,  and  that  he  had  intended 
paying  her  a  visit  soon. 

"A  visit !  "  she  replied  ;  "  to  talk  so  eoolly  of  paying 
a  ceremonious  visit  to  one  who  has  thought  more  of  you 
than  of  all  the  rest  of  the  world  besides !  You  must  have 
become  eitlier  very  wicked  or  very  unhappy.  Are  you 
still  under  the  same  banner  ?  Are  you  going  to  talk  to 
me  about  the  girl  with  the  blue  eyes?  You  seem  to 
have  had  it  pretty  hard,  my  poor  big  lamb !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  he.  "  Why  ask  me  what  I  told  you  long 
ago?     I'm  in  love  for  the  first  time  in  my  life." 

"Thank  you  for  the  compliment.  She  is  far  ahead 
of  us  then,  of  course  ?  " 

"  I  make  no  comparisons.  She  is  more  than  pretty, 
more  than  beautiful,  more  than  charming.  She  is  grace 
and  beauty  itself;  she  is  the  balmy  light  of  my  life, 
the  — " 

"  Oh,  I  '11  dispense  with  the  rest.  I  think  you  might 
have  had  the  good  taste  to  praise  her  to  somebody  be- 
sides me.  Well,  no  matter.  Be  happy.  I  speak  to 
you  w^ithout  anger.  You  treated  me  shamefully,  but  I 
can't  help  pardoning  you.  Bad  as  you  are,  I  can't  keep 
in  spite.     Be  happy  !  " 

"  I  am  not  happy,  Aurelia.  That  I  shall  never  be. 
I  cannot  succeed.  Insurmountable  obstacles  prevent 
me." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  Has  somebody  taken  the  trouble  to 
avenge  me?  You  are  suffering  in  your  turn.  I  do 
not  rejoice  over  it,  Meo,  but,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  admire 
the  justice  of  Providence." 


AURELIA.  145 

He  answered  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child  : 

"  Oh,  1  shall  not  suifer  long.  I  'm  to  kill  myself  in 
three  or  four  days.     So  — " 

.  Aurelia  screamed  loudly  at  this,  and  evinced  an 
emotion  that  was  by  no  means  counterfeit.  Rapid  as 
thought  she  hurried  Meo  some  hundred  yards  from 
the  public  walk,  made  him  sit  down  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree,  and  said : 

"  Now,  I  want  to  know  everything.  Speak  to  me  as 
to  your  sister,  or  your  mother.  Don't  mind  about 
paining  me ;  my  heart  is  pretty  tough.  My  poor  fel- 
low !  What  woman  could  have  been  so  unkind  as  to 
plunge  you  into  such  despair  ?  I  am  ready  to  do  every- 
thing in  my  power  to  aid  you,  —  /,  whom  you  don't  care 
about.  Do  you  want  me  to  go  and  speak  to  her  regard- 
ing you  ?  Ah !  I  should  soon  tell  her  how  crazy  she 
must  be  to  fling  away  the  most  divine  happiness  that 
one  of  our  sex  can  ever  expect  in  this  world !  " 

Meo  was  touched  with  this  female  heroism,  of  which 
an  Italian  woman  alone  could  be  capable.  His  heart, 
which  at  first  had  assumed  the  defensive,  now  gave  way 
to  its  emotion.  Two  big  tears  started  to  his  eyes.  It  was 
with  a  voice  broken  by  sobs  that  he  told  her  the  history 
of  his  love  and  the  grounds  that  he  had  for  despair. 
His  old  friend  listened  to  him  and  questioned  him  with 
passionate  earnestness.  Sometimes  a  selfish  feeling 
would  naturally  make  her  rejoice  at  the  Captain's  cru- 
elty ;  but  she  would  immediately  check  herself  for  in- 
dulging in  such  a  sentiment,  and  then  look  into  Meo's 
case  with  more  compassion  than  ever.  Sometimes  she 
would  take  his  head  between  her  two  hands  and  kiss  the 

tears  oif  his  eyelids,  to  taste  the  bitterness  of  his  heart. 
13  E 


146  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  You  never  wept  for  me,"  said  she ;  but  it  was  not  long 
before  she  was  weeping  too. 

When  she  had  lieard  the  whole  history,  and,  through 
its  incidents,  studied  the  character  of  the  Captain,  she 
reflected  for  some  time,  and  then  said  to  Meo : 

"  Dear  friend,  I  'm  only  a  woman,  and  even  a  very 
commonplace  woman  at  that,  since,  though  I  loved 
you  dearly,  I  have  never  been  able  to  obtain  a  particle 
of  your  affection  in  return.  Still  we  women  possess  a 
deeper  insight  into  the  human  heart  than  you  men  can 
boast  of.  I  think  I  'm  right  in  guessing  that  your  Cap- 
tain is  like  an  old  Florentine  that  lived  in  our  house 
when  I  was  a  little  girl.  He  studied  continually  how 
to  do  nothing  that  might  be  agreeable  to  his  neighbors, 
relations,  or  friends.  The  more  people  tried  to  please 
him  the  rougher  he  acted  towards  them,  and  the  only 
way  to  get  anything  out  of  him  was  to  treat  him  as  an 
enemy.  He  had  three  nephews  who  had  been  humor- 
ing him  for  ten  years  in  order  to  come  in  for  his  inheri- 
tance ;  but  he  made  his  will  in  favor  of  a  judge  who  had 
cast  him  in  all  his  lawsuits.  His  niece  loved  a  young 
man  of  the  place ;  but  he  married  her  to  an  old  fellow 
that  she  could  not  bear  the  sight  of.  Your  Captain  is 
a  man  of  the  same  mould,  if  I  am  not  very  much  mis- 
taken. Perhaps  he  would  give  you  his  daughter  if  he 
was  only  sure  that  it  would  make  you  both  unhappy. 
However  that  may  be,  you  have  been  certainly  very 
wrong  in  truckling  to  him  during  the  tour;  that  was 
quite  enough  to  set  him  dead  against  you.  Now,  if  you 
ever  obtain  his  consent,  it  will  be  only  by  contriving 
ho<v  to  wring  it  out  of  him  by  force.  Face  him  boldly, 
and  try  even  to  surpass  hira  in  stiffness  and  ill-temper. 


AURELIA.  147 

Perhaps  he  would  allow  himself  to  be  taken  by  storm. 
Show  yourself  in  all  your  energy  and  all  your  courage. 
You  '11  make  him  afraid.  Heavens !  I  know  I  should 
be  afraid  of  you  if  I  were  a  man." 

Meo  escorted  her  back  to  her  hotel.  Without  well 
knowing  why,  he  felt  himself  a  little  more  cheerful. 
The  future  appeared  to  him  less  gloomy,  and  the  Cap- 
tain less  terrible.  He  determined  on  another  struo;:2;le 
with  destiny,  and  not  to  confess  himself  conquered  with- 
out a  good,  hard  fight.  He  warmly  thanked  Aurelia 
for  having  shown  him  so  much  devotedness,  and  given 
him  so  much  coura2;e. 

"  It  is  heaven  that  has  brought  you  to  Baden,"  he 
said  as  he  took  his  leave. 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  replied  with  her  Italian  candor ; 
"  it  is  only  an  old  printer,  M.  Silivergo,  who  has  vol- 
unteered to  protect  me  during  my  visit  to  the  waters." 


M<^  KOUGE     ET    NOIR. 

CHAPTER  X. 

ROUGE  ET  NOIR. 

IT  was  on  Tuesday,  the  14th  of  September,  that  Meo 
had  met  Aurelia.  That  day,  the  next,  and  the 
following  Thursday,  the  two  friends  saw  a  little  of  each 
other  everywhere,  except  at  their  hotels.  M.  Silivergo, 
who  watched  over  his  protegde  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance, and  began,  as  everybody  said,  to  regard  her  with 
matrimonial  notions,  was  rather  uneasy  at  these  meet- 
ings, but  he  would  not  condescend  to  recognize  his  old 
proof-reader.  Meo,  on  his  side,  felt  no  great  desire  to 
rush  into  the  arms  of  his  surly  patron.  Pie  was  the  in- 
separable companion  of  I^e  Roy  and  the  joyous  band 
of  the  other  broken  players.  These  gentlemen  received 
their  money,  lost  it,  recruited  their  finances  by  a  few 
lucky  hits,  and  kept  fortune  in  check  for  three  succes- 
sive days.  Meo  rowed  in  the  same  boat  with  them; 
losing,  winning,  and  laughing  at  everything.  They 
considered  him  quite  improved,  and  gave  Mademoiselle 
Aurelia  full  credit  for  the  change.  He  defended  him- 
self warmly  from  the  imputation,  protested  his  fidelity, 
and  swore  that  the  Captain  should  soon  come  to  terms 
with  him,  or  he'd  know  for  what.  He  repeated  his 
story  to  every  listener  so  readily  that  it  soon  became 
quite  popular.  All  the  young  Parisians  knew  that 
Captain  Bitterlin  was  coming,  and  rumor  already  de- 
scribed him  like  some  fabulous  animal.  They  never 
supped  at  the  Restaurant  without  drinking  to  the  down- 
fall of  the  savage  Captain.     Emma  was  regarded  as  a 


ROUGE    ET    NOIR.  149 

heroine  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  Meo  became  celebrated 
under  the  cognomen  of  Eginhard.  The  women  began 
to  grow  interested  in  his  liappiness,  and  more  than  one 
crinoline  fluttered  around  him  with  anything  but  aver- 
sion. The  honest  fellow,  however,  did  not  see  the 
point ;  he  sighed  openly  for  his  fair  one,  shook  his  fist 
at  his  absent  father-in-law,  and  played  Rouge  et  Noir 
while  waiting  for  the  enemy.  He  had  already  pro- 
gressed so  far  as  to  look  on  gold  napoleons  as  so  many 
very  handy  counters  for  the  transactions  of  the  play ;  he 
attributed  to  them  no  other  employment  and  no  other 
importance.  Fortune,  who  does  not  always  despise  the 
heedless,  did  not  forget  him. 

But  Friday  announced  itself  as  a  highly  unlucky  day. 
Early  in  the  morning,  Rouge  et  Noir  seemed  to  have 
made  up  its  mind  to  fleece  its  votaries.  An  unnatural 
run  of  ill-luck  disconcerted  the  most  logical  plans  and 
the  most  infallible  attacks.  Red  and  Black  lost  by 
turns,  without  order  or  consideration.  No  series  in  the 
cards,  no  possible  connection  in  the  ideas  of  the  players. 
Everything  went  on  so  well  or  so  badly,  that  the  bank, 
which  had  started  with  fifty  thousand  francs,  had  at 
least  three  hundred  thousand  piled  up  before  it  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening.  Messrs.  Plum  and  Wreck,  who 
had  arrived  that  very  morning,  persisted  in  betting,  the 
one  on  the  Red  and  the  other  on  the  Black,  till  they  had 
lost  ten  thousand  francs  apiece.  Meo's  new  friends  paid 
dear  for  their  previous  successes ;  he  himself  was  fast 
refunding  with  interest  all  that  he  had  been  winning  for 
the  last  three  days.  Such  an  irritating  influence  had 
the  continued  ill-luck  uj)on  him,  that  even  this  lover, 
this  philosopher,  this  stoic,  at  last  allowed  himself  to  be 


150  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

invaded,  like  the  others,  by  bad  humor.  Standing  at 
the  banker's  right  hand,  at  every  new  deal  he  threw 
down  a  napoleon  on  the  Red  or  on  the  Black,  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders  impatiently  as  he  saw  the  rake 
hooking  in  his  money. 

At  last,  new  cards  had  been  shuffled ;  !Mco  had  cut 
them  with  his  own  hand,  and  he  was  just  dropping  his 
last  stake  on  Black,  when  a  well  remembered  cough 
made  him  look  around,  and  he  suddenly  found  himself 
nose  to  nose  with  the  Captain. 

Certainly  he  had  had  plenty  of  time  to  prepare  him- 
self for  this  interview  and  to  have  his  arms  ready. 
Only  an  hour  before,  he  had  said  to  M.  Le  Roy,  "  I 
shall  tame  that  Captain  !  "  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  insult  his  father-in-law  wherever  and  whenever  he 
might  meet  him.  The  moment  had  now  come;  here 
was  an  excellent  opportunity,  and  even  the  grounds  for 
a  pretty  little  quarrel  were  already  furnished,  for  the 
Captain  had  always  denounced  cards  and  card-players. 
But  the  sight  of  that  big  nose  suddenly  looming  up  in 
the  midst  of  his.game,  disconcerted  poor  Meo  completely. 
A  fortnight  of  respectful  terror  and  filial  obedience  is 
not  to  be  forgotten  in  an  instant.  All  the  Captain's 
strictures  on  the  immorality  of  gambling  immediately 
flashed  on  his  mind.  His  old  habit  of  submission, 
stronger  than  his  late  resolutions,  entirely  cowed  him, 
and  he  slunk  aAvay  stealthily,  like  a  schoolboy  detected 
in  some  trick  by  his  master's  watchful  eye. 

M.  Bitterliu  had  arrived  by  the  six  o'clock  evening 
train,  charged  to  the  muzzle  with  morality.  Ever  since 
the  profession  of  faith  that  he  had  made  at  SchafFhausen, 
he  almost  looked  on  himself  as  a  reformer,  sent  on  a 


EOUGE    ET    NOIR,  151 

special  mission.  On  the  broad  foundations  of  his  virtue, 
he  had  erected  a  grand  and  glittering  castle.  Like  another 
Hercules,  the  subduer  of  monsters,  he  was  going  to  at- 
tack and  subdue  the  Hydra  of  gambling  at  the  very 
fountain-head,  and. thereby  gain  the  eternal  applause  of 
all  well-regulated  families.  His  word  and  example 
should  convert  the  punters  in  hundreds  at  a  time,  and 
finally  Benazet  himself  and  all  the  other  gambling- 
house  proprietors  would  present  themselves  before  him 
and  solemnly  renounce  forever  all  connection  with  this 
idol  of  the  million.  lie  scarcely  gave  himself  time  to 
change  his  dress  and  lock  up  his  daughter  in  the 
hotel.  He  asked  the  way  to  the  Conversations  Haus, 
and  entered  it  as  resolutely  as  Polyeuctes  and  Nearchus 
entered  the  temple  of  Jupiter.  The  first  pagan  he  met 
was  M.  Le  Roy,  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  friends.  The 
young  man,  perceiving  him,  called  him  by  his  name  and 
said  :  "  Be  quick  about  commencing  to  play,  I  want  to 
win  that  twenty  pounds !  You  are  as  welcome  here  as 
Mademoiselle  Mars  in  the  middle  of  Lent."  The 
Captain  pulled  up  his  black  stock  with  dignity,  and  re- 
plied :  "  I  shall  enable  you  to  win  more  than  twenty 
pounds,  if  I  teach  you  how  to  overcome  your  gambling 
propensities  and  to  renounce  cards."  He  continued  his 
way,  only  stopping  a  moment  to  shrug  his  shoulders  at 
the  sight  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Moring  playing 
Roulette.  The  news  of  his  arrival  had  been  spread 
through  the  saloons  by  the  friends  of  M.  Le  Roy.  All 
eyes  were  turned  towards  him ;  he  was  pointed  out,  fol- 
lowed, and  examined  by  two  hundred  persons ;  people 
even  ran  after  him  to  look  at  him  more  closely.  He 
marched  on  as  if  in  a  procession,  turning  his  head  right 


152  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

and  left,  and  muttering  in  liis  moustache :  "  It  appears 
that  they  are  not  mucli  accustomed  here  to  see  a  man  of 
principle!"  He  recognized  Meo,  and  posted  himself 
behind  hun  to  greet  him  with  one  of  his  compliments  as 
soon  as  he  should  turn  round.  -^Fhe  poor  fellow's  cow- 
ardly fliglit  made  him  laugh.  "  What  a  milk-sop  ! " 
said  he.  "  He  has  not  even  the  courage  of  vice  !  Hey ! 
He  has  forgotten  his  twenty  francs !  Twenty  francs  a 
go!  What  extravagance!  Two  liundred  pounds  of 
ammunition  bread  !  "  He  was  tempted  to  pick  up  the 
gold  piece  and  return  it  to  Meo,  but  a  scruple  restrained 
him.  He  was  full  of  that  coarse  delicacy  which  re- 
spects another's  property,  even  to  the  most  absurd  de- 
gree. Besides  he  promised  himself  a  good  laugh  as 
soon  as  the  rake  should  come  to  haul  in  the  money  and 
give  the  gambler  a  lesson.  He,  however,  had  not  this 
satisfaction  the  first  time :  Black  won,  and  Mco's  napo- 
leon found  a  companion. 

"  Well,"  thought  the  Captain,  "  what  of  that?  My 
big  simpleton  shall  lose  it  all  next  oifer."  In  this  hope 
he  leaned  \vith  his  elbow  on  the  table.  But  the  second 
offer,  as  well  as  the  first,  was  favorable  to  Black,  and 
the  Captain  saw  eighty  francs  lying  before  him. 

He  looked  with  contempt  at  the  gambling-polluted 
gold.  It  was  coin  fresh  from  the  mint;  the  lamp-light 
flashed  off  it  as  off  so  many  jewels.  Their  radiant 
glitter  carried  him  back  in  spite  of  himself  to  the  first 
'four  louis  he  had  ever  called  his  own.  They  were 
twenty-four  franc-pieces  of  yellow  gold,  very  ancient, 
very  much  worn,  and  even  rather  clipped  on  the  edge. 
His  mother  had  taken  them  out  of  an  old  stocking  and 
slipped  them  into  his  hand  on  the  day  he  started  for  the 


ROUGE    ET    NOIR.  153 

•wars.  "  What  a  diiference,"  thought  he,  "  between  these 
counters  of  immorality  here,  and  those  noble  medals 
which  my  mother  had  sanctified  by  her  labor  and  her 
economy ! "  This  reflection  was  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  the  rake  which  brought  him  four  new  louis. 
Black  had  won  for  the  third  time. 

"  By  Jove ! "  said  he  to  himself.  "  Just  look  at  the 
fairness  of  destiny !  When  I  was  second  captain  I 
fought  for  my  life  a  whole  month  to  earn  the  sum  that 
this  ninny  picks  up  in  three  turns  of  a  card !  A  very 
nice  world  !  Good!  thirty-nine  for  Black  —  Yes  !  but 
there 's  forty  for  Red  !  Tliat  puts  ray  two  months'  pay 
into  M.  Narni's  pocket !  " 

He  leaned  down  and  pressed  his  arms  against  the 
table,  firmly  resolved  never  to  leave  the  spot  until  Black 
had  lost.  But  the  fifth  deal,  and  the  sixth,'  only  doubled 
and  redoubled  Meo's  fortune.  The  heap  of  gold  that 
glittered  before  the  Captain  was  now  rising  in  magnifi- 
cent proportions :  it  already  contained  twelve  hundred 
and  eighty  francs  well  counted.  In  the  presence  of  a 
sum  of  this  importance,  M.  Bitterlin  began  to  regret 
that  jSIeo  was  not  there  to  come  to  some  decision.  He 
was  not  quite  sure  how  far  his  scrupulous  delicacy  would 
authorize  him  in  allowing  such  a  sum  to  be  swept  back 
again  into  the  bottomless  gulf  of  the  bank.  Not  that 
he  cared  a  straw  about  the  young  stranger ;  it  was  the 
gold  that  he  pitied.  "  This  can't  last  always,"  said  he 
to  himself.  "  The  banker  won't  pass  his  evening  in 
doubling  the  heap  of  money  lying  before  me  ;  it  would 
not  pay  his  expenses."  Thinking  thus,  he  began  look- 
ing around  for  Meo,  keeping,  however,  a  corner  of  his 
eye  on  the  cards,  which  now  began  to  inspire  him  with 
a  vague  kind  of  interest. 


154  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

Bliick  won  for  tlic  seventli  time,  antl  a  bank-note, 
e.scorted  by  fourteen  napoleons,  came  to  increase  the 
Italian's  riches. 

The  play  was  becoming  interesting.  It  was  the  first 
series  that  had  haj>pcned  since  moi'ning.  The  unex- 
pected success  of  Black  resounded  through  all  the 
saloons,  and  people  came  crowding  from  all  quarters  to 
see  how  far  the  lucky  run  woukl  go.  The  Captain's 
reputation,  his  grimaces,  but  particularly  the  very  re- 
spectable stake  lying  before  him,  attracted  all  eyes  his 
way.  Already  three  or  four  pretty  women  had  come  to 
ask  him  for  the  loan  of  five  louis,  and  had  been  met  as 
the  dogs  are  met  by  a  wild  boar. 

Black  turned  up  again  for  the  eighth  tithe,  and  left 
before  him  a  total  of  five  thousand  one  hundred  and 
twenty   francs. 

Never,  since  he  was  a  child,  had  he  witnessed  any- 
thing so  surprising.  This  rapid  accumulation  of  gold 
scandalized  hira  assuredly,  but  amazed, him  still  more. 
Five  thousand  francs !  A  whole  year's  income,  won  in 
a  few  minutes  by  the  mere  caprice  of  chance !  He  ex- 
perienced a  certain  satisfaction  in  putting  back  a  few 
louis  that  had  slipped  a  little  off  the  heap.  Of  course 
he  was  proud  of  remaining  a  disinterested  spectator  of 
all  this  hubbub :  he  pitied  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart 
all  the  poor  wretches  whose  eager  glances  betrayed  the 
palpitating  emotion  with  which  they  watched  every  turn 
of  the  cards.  But,  taking  it  all  in  all,  he  was  by  no 
means  sorry  for  having  got  such  a  good  look  into  things, 
and  felt  the  recoil  as  it  were  of  such  exciting  passions. 
He  even  thought  for  a  moment  that  if  the  delirium  of 
play  ever  could  be  excusable,  it  should  be  so  assuredly 


ROUGE    ET    NOIR.  155 

on  grand  occasions  like  the  present,  which  give  or  take 
away  whole  fortunes  at  a  blow.  He  Avas  already  catch- 
ing a  distant  glimpse  of  a  rich  morality,  very  different 
from  the  poor  morality  that  he  had  been  practising  for 
sixty  years.  The  wealth  spread  out  before  his  eyes  ex- 
cited strange  emanations  in  his  brain,  and  his  ideas  took 
as  it  were  a  new  color.  One  of  the  servants  of  the 
establishment  brouoht  him  a  chair.  He  refused  to  take 
it,  saying  that  he  did  not  play.  However,  as  the  chair 
felt  so  convenient,  particularly  as  the  emotions  of  the 
play  made  his  knees  tremble,  he  finally  sat  down.  The 
banker  began  turning  up  the  cards  once  more,  and  gave 
the  Black  row  exactly  thirty-one  jioints.  The  Captain 
noticed  the  rueful  countenance  of  this  officer,  who  prob- 
ably had  an  interest  in  the  profits  of  the  bank.  The 
thouQjht  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be  a  noble  and 
chivalrous  thing  to  despoil  such  immortal  enterprises 
and  to  pay  them  back  in  their  own  coin.  And  when 
he  had  his  ten  thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  francs 
lying  before  him,  he  looked  on  himself  as  the  champion 
of  virtue,  who  had  just  won  a  great  victory  over  the 
demon  of  gamblino;. 

All  these  events,  so  new  in  the  Captain's  life,  had 
taken  place  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  quite  time 
enough  for  the  bank,  once  fairly  started,  to  ruin  a  man  or 
to  make  his  fortune. 

Meo,  though  driven  off  by  fear,  had  not  run  a  hun- 
dred leagues  away.  The  thought  of  Emma,  the  great 
resolutions  he  had  taken,  and  the  reflection  that  he  must 
conquer  or  die,  soon  brought  him  back  to  the  field  of 
battle.  He  was  in  the  Roulette  Room,  flapping  his  wings 
to  get  up  some  courage,  when  a  player  of  his  acquaintance 


156  ROUGE    ET    NOin. 

said  as  lie  passed  by  :  "  Hey !  islliat  the  way  you  watch 
your  luck  ?  The  haud  that  you  cut  has  already  won 
niue  times  !  "  All  at  once  he  thought  of  the  twenty- 
franc  j)iece  that  he  had  left  on  the  table.  Though  he 
w'as  far  from  suspecting  his  good  fortune,  he  slipped 
back  stealthily  into  the  crowd  surrounding  the  Rouge 
ct  Noir  table,  and  began  to  look  for  his  father-in-law 
and  his  money.  He  discovered  them,  one  brooding 
over  the  other,  and  arrived  just  in  time  to  hear  the 
banker  say  to  the  Captain  ;  "  How  much  are  you  going 
to  stake,  sir  ?  " 

"I  —  don't  know,"  replied  the  Captain,  redder  than 
a  hundred  lobsters  ;  "  I  —  don't  play.  My  —  princi- 
ples—" 

"  You  are  aware,  sir,"  said  a  neigliboring  Croupier, 
"  that  the  maximum  stake  is  six  thousand  francs." 

All  eyes  were  fixed  at  once  on  this  audacious  punter 
who  was  staking  more  than  the  maximum,  and  the 
Captain  felt  himself  cower  under  the  weight  of  the 
public  curiosity.  He  threw  a  frightened  glance  around 
the  room,  expecting  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Meo's  counte- 
nance, but  catching  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  seeing 
that  all  only  awaited  his  decision  to  renew  the  play,  he 
answered  in  a  stifled  voice  :  "  Six  thousand  francs,  sir. 
I  —  think  so  at  least.     It  is  not  I  — " 

His  hands  trembled ;  he  counted  the  six  bank  notes, 
left  them  on  the  Black,  and  drew  the  rest  to  himself. 
The  contact  of  this  treasure  gave  him  a  kind  of  vertigo. 
A  swarm  of  golden  butterflies  began  to  flutter  iii  his 
head  ;  he  grasped  the  table  tightly  with  his  hands  and 
closed  his  eyes.  The  smothered  exclamations  of  the 
crowd  soon  made  him  open  them  again.  Black  had 
won  again,  for  the  tenth  time  ! 


ROUGE    ET    NOIR.  157 


/ 


"  After  all/'  thought  the  Captain,  "  I  'm  not  aban- 
doning my  principles,  since  it  is  not  for  myself  that  I 
play.  I  do  not  even  23lay  for  the  young  man,  for  I 
have  made  no  combination.  I  just  leave  his  money 
where  he  placed  it  himself,  and  take  away  whatever 
exceeds  the  regular  stake.  The  Croupiers  would  have 
done  as  much,  if  I  refused."  In  the  meantime  the 
game  went  on,  not  even  giving  him  time  to  come  to 
terms  with  his  conscience.  Black  won  fourteen  times 
in  succession,  and  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  draw  in  his 
six  thousand  francs  each  time. 

Meo,  concealed  behind  Mr.  Wreck,  was  now  a  prey 
to  the  most  violent  palpitations.  Transported  Vtith 
surprise  and  delight,  he  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes  as 
he  saw  his  fortune  increasing  in  such  proportions  in  the 
Captain's  hands ;  but  in  his  confusion  he  could  hardly 
tell  ^vhether  he  was  now  more  desirous  to  win  than  to 
lose.  The  sum  might  become  great  enough  to  restore 
the  house  of  Miranda  ;  but  it  still  remained  to  be  known 
if  the  Captain  would  give  his  daughter  to  a  Count. 
Would  it  not  be  better  if  M.  Bitterlin  lost  all  the  win- 
nings of  the  evening,  and  reduced  tlie  fortunate  Meo 
once  more  to  poverty  ?  In  such  a  case  he  would  no 
longer  have  any  right  to  refuse  him  a  place  in  his 
family,  since  he  had  ruined  him  before  the  whole  world. 
But  whatever  might  happen,  the  C-aptain  was  Meo's 
partner,  his  associate,  his  agent,  his  confederate,  and 
according  to  some  theories,  his  accomplice.  How 
delightful !  Ties  of  this  strength  are  never  broken ; 
accomplices  never  refuse  each  other  anything. 

At  the  fifteenth  deal  it  was  Red  that  won.     "Good ! " 

thought  Meo,  "now  begins  the  smash.     Oh,  my  well- 
14 


158  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

beloved  Captain,  ruin  nie  as  fast  as  you  can,  and  do  it 
so  cfFet'tively  tluit  I  shall  not  have  a  single  cent  left !  " 
But  that  was  the  last  of  the  Captain's  thougiits.  His 
first  ini])ression  had  been  one  of  surprise  and  regret. 
The  departure  of  that  money,  which  was  not  his,  and 
which  he  had  no  right  to  lose,  rather  stunned  him,  A 
mountain  of  scruples  sprung  up  at  once  in  his  con- 
science. He  asked  himself  if  he  was  not  responsible 
before  the  law  for  the  misfortune  that  had  just  occurred, 
and  if  the  stranger  would  not  be  perfectly  justifiable  in 
asking  him  for  those  six  thousand  francs.  He  opened 
his  mouth  to  ask  the  banker  to  put  back  the  money^ 
since  the  legitimate  owner  was  absent.  Remark  besides 
that  a  great  tumult  had  been  excited  by  the  triumph  of 
the  Red,  the  noise  of  a  hundred  persons  talking  all  at 
the  same  time  was  not  calculated  to  calm  his  disturbed 
brain  !  He  heard  everybody  around  him  say  that  it  was 
only  a  false  break  in  the  luck,  a  mere  trick  of  fortune 
to  throw  the  players  off  the  scent ;  that  Black  was  still 
good  for  ten  offers  more;  and  that  it  would  be  madness 
to  desert  it  for  so  little.  The  idea  of  winning  back  for 
M.  Narni  the  sum  that  he  had  just  been  the  cause  of 
his  losing,  insinuated  itself  by  degrees  into  the  crevices 
of  his  brain.  He  began  mechanicallv  turninV  over  the 
bank-notes  remaining  in  his  hands,  like  a  general  count- 
ing his  fresh  troops  in  the  heat  of  battle.  "What!" 
said  he  to  himself;  "  I  have  won  thirty  thousand  francs 
with  a  single  napoleon,  and  shall  I  not  try  to  win  six 
thousand  with  all  that  I  have  left  ?  Six  thousand 
francs  !  A  miserable  trifle !  Black  is  good  still ;  every- 
body says  so.  What  would  M.  Narni  do  in  my  place  ? 
He  would  keej)  on  playing;  he  would  like  to  win  back 


ROUGE    ETNOIR.  159 

what  I  have  just  lost,  and  after  having  won  it  back,  he 
would  still  go  ahead !  As  for  me,  I  am  more  prudent, 
so  I  shall  venture  only  one  offer  more  to  win  back  that 
six  thousand  francs,  and  then  —  good-night  to  the  com- 
pany ! " 

Perhaps  he  would  have  followed  this  wise  resolution 
if  he  had  only  recovered  his  six  thousand  francs  on  the 
next  turn.  But  the  banker  turned  up  thirty-one  both 
for  lied  and  Black,  which  gave  him  half  the  stakes. 
The  Captain  dispatched  fresh  troops  to  the  field,  and 
his  first  en^ao-ement  was  favorable.  He  returned  to  the 
charge,  lost,  won,  forgot  all  his  ideas  of  prudence,  and 
rushed  headlono;  like  a  blind  man  into  the  thickest  of  the 
fight.  For  a  long  time  past  he  had  not  been  seated, 
and  his  chair  had  been  driven  far  behind  him  by  an 
energetic  movement.  Standing  bolt  upright,  his  hands 
full  of  gold  and  bank-notes,  he  punted  away  on  Red,  on 
Black,  on  Color,  according  to  the  inspiration  of  the 
moment.  His  face  was  pale,  and  the  perspiration  glit- 
tered on  his  forehead  in  little  pearls  of  dew.  As  the 
banker  turned  up  the  cards,  he  counted  the  points  in 
a  low  voice,  regardless  of  the  spectacle  that  he  afforded 
to  the  spectators.  He  soliloquized  audibly,  and  swore 
sometimes  between  his  teeth.  You  may  depend  upon 
it,  he  thought  very  little  now  about  the  Italian,  and  no 
longer  troubled  himself  to  look  around  the  room  for 
him.  Had  Meo  been  indiscreet  enough  to  offer  him 
advice,  he  would  have  been  received  at  bayonet  point. 
His  attitude,  voice,  gesture,  everything  in  him  breathed 
of  the  passionate  energy  of  frenzied  enthusiasm ;  you 
would  have  called  him  a  desperate  lover  exerting  his 
last  efforts  to  make  Fortune  his  own. 


IGO  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

He  won  often,  and  won  nuu-li ;  bank-notes  of  a  thou- 
sand francs  came  to  him  in  liandfuls.  He  crumpled 
them  in  his  hands,  thrust  tliera  into  his  pockets,  piled 
them  up  in  heaps  on  the  table,  all  by  jerks  and  uncon- 
scious movements.  Now  and  then  the  Bank  had  almost 
exhausted  its  last  resources ;  two  or  three  times  in  one 
half  hour  tlie  public  confidently  expected  to  see  it 
brealc. 

Reader,  have  you  ever  hunted  the  gazelle?  It  is  the 
mildest,  the  most  inoifensive,  the  most  amiable  of 
animals.  Its  silky  skin  invites  caresses,  and  when  you 
look  at  its  pretty  pensive  head,  and  its  beautiful  eyes, 
you  can  hardly  help  embracing  it.  The  whole  human 
race  does  not  contain  a  bcino;  unnatural  enough  to  wish 
harm  to  so  charming  a  creature. 

But  when  the  dogs  have  started  the  gazelle,  and  when 
the  liorses  are  galloping  on  its  track  over  the  burning 
sands  of  the  desert,  then  tlie  panting  huixter  spurs  his 
steed,  cracks  his  whip,  and  asks  all  the  winds  of  heaven 
to  lend  him  their  wings.  Nothing  stops  him,  neither 
thickets,  nor  rocks,  nor  torrents,  nor  ravines,  nor  certain 
death  yawning  in  the  quagmires.  He  pursues  the 
enemy,  he  tires  him  out,  he  gains  on  him,  he  nears  him, 
he  reaches  him  and  screams  aloud  with  joy  and  victory; 
he  seizes  him  in  his  arms,  plunges  a  knife  into  his 
throat,  and  murders  with  infinite  delight,  a  poor  inno- 
cent animal  that  an  hour  before  he  would  have  caressed 
with  pleasure  in  the  drawing-room  or  in  the  garden. 

This  explains  how,  in  spite  of  all  his  reasons  to  dis- 
approve of  gambling,  M.  Bitterlin  never  stopped  play- 
ing that  night  until  he  absolutely  broke  the  Bank,  at 
precisely  twenty-five  minutes  to  twelve  o'clock. 


M.   SILIVERGO.  161 

CHAPTER  XI. 

M.  SILIVERGO. 

THE  defeat  of  the  bank  and  the  Captain's  trluraph 
were  hailed  with  immense  applause.  Crowds  came 
throno-inff  around  him  from  all  the  rooms.  He  flittered 
for  a  moment  under  the  radiant  aureola  that  crowns  the 
brows  of  conquerors,  but  it  soon  became  a  feeble  flick- 
erino;  light,  extino-uished  as  soon  as  lit.  The  fever  that 
had  sustained  him  to  the  end  of  the  play,  now  suddenly- 
abandoned  him.  The  pleasure  of  having  won  vanished 
like  a  dream,  and  black  thoughts  began  trooping  into 
his  brain  like  a  funeral  procession.  He  remembered 
that  he  had  been  false  to  his  principles  in  the  presence 
of  thousands  of  witnesses  selected  from  all  quarters  of 
Europe ;  that  for  four  hours  he  had  been  giving  the  lie 
to  all  the  discourses  and  actions  of  his  life ;  and  that  if 
he  was  still  Bitterlin  without  fear,  he  Avas  no  longer 
Bitterlin  without  reproach.  His  conscience  told  him 
plainly  that  all  the  money  he  had  won  was  far,  very  far, 
inferior  in  value  to  the  honor  he  had  lost.  He  was 
even  strongly  tempted  to  tear  the  bank-notes  to  pieces 
and  to  scatter  the  gold  in  all  directions,  so  as  to  give 
that  confounded  freak  of  his  the  look  of  a  great  moral 
lesson.  But  M.  Narni's  rights,  which  he  had  been  long 
rather  forgetting,  now  returned  to  his  memory,  and  he 
remembered  with  redoubled  melancholy  that  he  had 
torn  his  fine  reputation  to  rags  merely  for  another's 
benefit.  No  wonder  therefore  that  he  took  a  chair  and 
sat  down,  gloomier  than  a  burnt-out  sky-rocket.  He 
14*  L 


1G2  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

emptied  his  pockets  on  the  table  and  scrnpnlously 
counted  up  the  sum  that  lie  had  won,  in  order  to  find 
out  tlie  exact  amount  that  he  owed  ]Meo.  Tiie  sum 
totted  up,  he  took  out  a  rather  plump  ]wcket-book,  and, 
on  the  same  page  where  a  month  before  he  had  copied  off, 
"•  Excursion  Trains  to  Switzerland  and  Baden,  First-class 
tickets,  one  hundred  and  forty-one  francs  fifty  centimes," 
he  now  pencilled  down  the  very  imposing  figure  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty-one  thousand  two  hundred  and 
forty  francs!  A  Paris  newspaper  reporter  who  had  ar- 
rived that  very  evening,  read  it  all  off  over  his  shoulder 
and  immediately  made  a  note  of  it.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment, M.  Le  Roy  came  up  to  salute  the  melancholy  con- 
queror, saying :  "  Are  the  sheep  counted  ?  "  The  Cap- 
tain blushed  and  replied :  "  Yes,  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  and  odd." 

"  By  the  bye,  dear  INIonsieur  Bittcrlin,  how  shall  we 
designate  you  henceforward  ?  You  know  you  have  lost 
your  name ! " 

The  reporter  hastened  to  put  down  :  Bitterlin. 

"  I  don't  reproach  you  for  it.  You  have  made  me 
win  my  bet.  The  Englishman  got  neatly  gammoned. 
But  what  a  man  you  are !  What  coolness !  What  a 
head  !  I  saw  you  punting  away  like  Mithridates,  the 
king  of  Pontus." 

The  Captain  sighed  profoundly. 

"  I  swear  to  you,"  said  he,  "  that  this  is  the  first  time 
in  my  life  I  have  ever  gambled ;  and  the  last  too.  This 
hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs  has  been  won  with 
a  single  napoleon  that  did  not  belong  to  me.  There  is 
some  fatality  in  the  affair.  It  all  belongs  to  M.  Narni; 
I  will  carry  it  all  to  him  this  very  evening,  as  a  soldier 
should  do." 


M.   SILIVERGO.  163 

While  M.  Le  Roy  and  the  others  were  uttering  ohs 
and  ahs,  the  persevering  reporter  was  writing  down  in 
his  note-book:  " One  napoleon ;  never  played  before', 
Narni."  And  underneath:  "3Iithridates,king  ofPontus. 
To  punt." 

It  had  cost  the  Captain  much  painful  trouble  to  force 
up  from  the  bottom  of  his  throat  the  above  confused  ex- 
jslanation.  He  was  quite  ill  at  ease :  he  made  his  wig 
all  crooked  by  trying  to  scratch  his  head,  and  every  time 
he  used  his  handkerchief,  it  carried  off  a  bluish  stain 
from  his  perspiring  moustache.  Whilst  the  crowd 
stared  at  him  as  at  a  curious  animal,  his  eyes  were  eagerly 
searching  for  somebody  in  all  quarters  of  the  saloon, 
and  he  was  chewing  under  his  teeth  a  little  string  of 
pretty  epithets  intended  for  a  certain  absent  individual. 
His  nearest  neighbors,  and  even  the  distant  ones  occa- 
sionally, could  hear  every  now  and  then  such  words  as : 
"  The  beggar !  the  beast !  the  big  coward !  the  stupid 
booby  !    I  shall  pay  him,  but  he  shall  pay  me,  too !  " 

He  was  breaking  up  the  sitting,  when  an  unforeseen 
obstacle  kept  him  in  his  place  somewhat  longer  than  he 
desired.  The  noise  made  by  the  explosion  of  the  bank 
had  reached  the  ears  of  the  little  aristocratic  circle  that 
is,  so  to  speak,  the  Fatibourg  Saint  Germain  of  Baden. 
Away  in  the  recesses  of  a  remote  drawing-room,  beyond 
the  Restaurant  saloons,  seven  or  eight  old  dowagers  of 
great  name  and  great  virtue  were  quietly  enjoying  them- 
selves in  flaying  alive  the  whole  human  race,  when  the 
attache  of  some  embassy  brought  them  the  news.  All 
at  once  the  demon  of  "charity"  took  possession  of  their 
souls;  they  all  felt  at  the  same  time  a  strong  itching  to 
relieve  the  winner  of  some  of  his  gains  for  the  benefit 


IGl  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

of  the  city  liospitals.  Full  of  this  good  thouo-ht,  they 
rose  en  masse,  and  the  venerable  trooj)  put  itself  in  pro- 
cessional motion  until  it  reached  M.  Bitterlin.  The 
Captain's  eyes  became  as  big  as  saucers  v.hen  he  saw 
himself  harangued  by  these  demi-centenarians.  They 
paid  him  a  little  sneering  compliment  on  his  good  for- 
tune ;  they  told  him  that  if  gambling  could  be  tolerated 
at  all  by  religion,  it  was  only  on  condition  that  the 
winner  would  not  forget  the  poor;  and  finally  they 
handed  him  a  work-bag,  which  was  to  receive  whatever 
mites  his  opulence  might  choose  to  bestow. 

The  poor  Captain  could  hardly  speak  ;  in  fact,  he  was 
almost  smothering.  "  Ladies,"  he  at  last  tried  to  say, 
"ladies — lam  not  accustomed  to  public  speaking  — 
nor  to  gambling,  either  —  be  assured  of  that.  I  am  an 
honest  soldier;  I  am  father  of  a  fomily;  and  totally  free 
from  vice.  My  principles  —  I  have  as  good  principles 
as  any  one,  let  his  sex  or  his  religion  be  what  it  may. 
As  to  this  money,  it  is  none  of  mine ;  I  swear  it  by  this 
cross  of  honor  which  —  no  matter  what.  Here  is  a 
five-franc  piece  of  my  own.  I  give  it  to  save  further 
trouble.  M.  Narni  will  do  what  he  pleases  with  his 
own  money  —  that  is,  provided  he  chooses  to  do  anything 
at  all.  Ladies,  I  have  the  honor  of  bidding  you  good- 
night." 

He  flung  five  francs  into  the  work-bag,  dashed  head- 
foremost into  the  crowd,  elbowed  his  way  through  jthe 
saloons,  and  started  off  like  a  madman,  in  quest  of  Meo. 
The  same  public  that  had  applauded  him  so  warmly  a 
few  minutes  before,  now  pursued  hjm  with  an  insulting 
murmur,  but  the  Captain  did  not  mind  it.  He  turned 
his  back  on  the  gambling  palace,  swearing  it  was  the 


M.   SILIVERGO.  1G5 

last  time  he  should  ever  be  caught  there  again,  hurried 
through  the  avenue  of  little  shops  that  faces  the  Restau- 
rant, crossed  the  river,  and  plunged  into  the  streets  of 
the  town,  without  exactly  knowing  where  he  was  going. 
After  a  wild  race  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he  became 
aware  that  he  was' followed.  He  heard  a  regular  tramp, 
like  the  echo  of  his  own  footsteps,  close  behind  him ; 
sometimes  even,  on  having  passed  a  lamp,  he  saw  a  long 
shadow  project  itself  before  him  on  the  pavement.  The 
enemy  must  have  been  intended  by  nature  for  a  racer, 
for  he  gained  ground  at  every  stride.  The  Captain,  at 
last,  feeling  him  at  his  heels,  turned  roun<l,  and,  like  a 
wild  beast  overtaken  by  the  hounds,  stood  at  bay.  But 
he  was  not  long  in  recognizing  one  of  his  old  travelling 
companions,  Mr.  Wreck. 

The  New  Yorker  held  out  his  hand,  his  mouth  radiant 
with  a  good-natured  smile. 

"  Good  evening,  my  dear  Monsieur  Bitterlin,"  said 
he ;  "  why,  how  you  run  !  You  'd  beat  Indian  John, 
of  Baltimore,  though  I  won  two  thousand  dollars  on 
him  at  Cincinnati.  But  where  are  you  going  ?  All  the 
hotels  of  the  city  are  on  the  other  side  —  every  one  of 
them." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  Captain,  completely  taken  aback, 
"it  was  to  tell  me  that  you  hunted  me  like  a  deer? 
Well,  I  thank  you  all  the  same." 

"  Oh  !  I  also  wished  to  offer  you  my  little  congratu- 
lations. You  play  very  well ;  yes,  artistically  well.  I 
play  first-rate  also,  and  rather  high,  too." 

"  I  don't  compliment  you  on  it,  sir." 

"  You  're  right ;  I  didn't  play  first-rate  to-day.  I  lost, 
but  that  stupid  old  Johnny  Bull  lost  twice  as  much, 
Monsieur  Bitterlin  ?  " 


16G  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  Sir  ?  "  . 

"  I  admire  your  style  of  play  very  much." 

" I  never  plfiy,  sir !  —  or  at  least- — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  understand.  That  discourse  of  yours 
in  the  hotel  was  rich.  Will  you  come  to  Homburg 
Avith  me?" 

"What  for,  sir?" 

"  To  play  Rouge  et  Noir  ;  I  stake  a  hundred  thousand 
francs,  you  stake  another  hundred  thousand  francs. 
Between  us  Ave  shall  burst  the  bank.     Hey  !  " 

"Hey  yourself,  sir!  I  tell  you  you  are  altogether 
mistaken  in  me.     You  don't  know  me,  sir  !  " 

"I  know  that  you  play  first-rate.  How  much  a  year 
do  your  winnings  amount  to  ?  " 

"Death  and  fury!  Sir,  I  win  nothing,  because  I 
never  play,  and  I  never  play  because  I  am  a  man  of 
principle,  —  you  understand?  —  in  other  words,  sir,  an 
honest  man  ! " 

"  Oh !  in  my  country,  INIonsieur  Bitterlin,  the  most 
honest  man  is  the  man  that  makes  the  most  money." 

"Then  I'd  advise  you  to  brag  of  your  country! 
Good  night,  Monsieur  Wreck.  By  the  Avay,  do  you 
know  in  what  hotel  M.  Narni  lodges,  that  long  gawk 
of  a  fellow  who  travelled  with  us?" 

"That  young  man?  Oh,  yes.  He  don't  play  as 
well  as  you,  Monsieur  Bitterlin.  He  has  been  losing  the 
whole  day." 

"That's  right,  pity  him  !  Don't  you  know  at  what 
hotel  he  is  stopping?" 

"  Oh,  yes.     He  's  at  the  Victoria,  where  I  am." 

"  You  might  have  said  so  sooner ;  I  have  been  asking 
you  that  question  for  the  last  hour." 


M.   SILIVERGO.  1G7 

"  And  I  have  been  asking  you  if  you  are  willing  to 
break  the  bank  at  Homburg.  I  should  like  dearly  to 
break  it." 

"What!  sir,  can  you  find  no  better  way  to  spend 
your  time'  and  your  fortune  ?  Gambling,  the  scourge 
of  regiments,  the  destruction  of  families — " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  quite  correct.  You  said  all  that,  you  know, 
already  at  Schaff  hausen.  A  first-rate  joke  !  Decidedly 
rich !  That  stupid  beast  of  an  Englishman  thought 
you  were  in  earnest,  and  lost  his  twenty  pounds  on  it. 
Served  him  right !     Hey  !     Here  is  the  Victoria." 

"  Very  much  obliged  to  you.     Good-night." 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  want  to  go  to  bed  yet.  What  do  you 
say  to  a  little  game  of  poker  for  ourselves  up  in  my 
room  ?  " 

"  You  and  your  games  may  go  to  the  devil !  "  mut- 
tered the  Captain  in  a  rage,  as  he  walked  off  in  another 
direction.  He  soon  returned,  however,  and  discovered 
that  Meo  had  not  yet  come  back  ;  the  key  of  his  door 
was  still  hanging  in  the  porter's  room.  He  lit  a  cigar, 
and  walked  up  and  down  the  street,  waiting  for  his 
creditor.  A  drizzling  rain,  cold  and  penetrating,  came 
just  in  time  to  render  the  promenade  still  more  attractiv^e. 
Now  and  then  he  would  blow  on  his  wet  fingers,  and  con- 
sult the  gold  dial  of  his  watch  at  least  once  every  ten 
minutes.  It  might  be  easily  supposed  that  Meo  was  in 
the  meantime  supping  quietly  at  the  Restaurant;  but  the 
Captain  preferred  waiting  for  him  there  to  going  so  far 
back  after  him.  He  was  afraid  of  missino;  him  on  the 
road,  but  he  particularly  dreaded  meeting  any  more 
dowagers. 

While  he  was   thus   doggedly   keeping   guard   and 


168  ROUGE    ET    NO  IK. 

exhausting  all  the  oaths  in  his  collection,  his  futiire  son- 
in-law  was  kicking  u})  a  commotion  in  Aurelia's  hotel. 

Not  a  single  particular  of  the  famous  game  had  escaped 
Meo's  attention.  Concealed  behind  Mr.  Wreck's  shoul- 
ders, he  had  watched  the  very  low  level  of  his  fortune 
rising,  rising,  until  at  last  the  river  overflowed.  lie 
has  since  confessed,  Mith  his  usual  sincerity,  that  during 
the  last  seven  or  eight  deals  Emma's  image  had  been 
rather  indistinct  in  his  mind.  Young  girls  of  fifteen 
■svill  perhaps  never  pardon  him  for  this  quarter  of  an 
hour's  forgetfulness ;  but  I  swear  to  you,  my  dear 
young  ladies,  that  he  was  thinking  no  more  of  his  money 
than  of  his  mistress.  Although  he  saw  a  pretty  round 
sum  awaitino;  him  in  the  hands  of  his  affent,  he  never 
once  thou<>;ht  of  buvino-  back  his  name,  his  lands,  or  his 
pictures;  his  only  desire,  the  most  ardent  wish  of  his 
heart,  was  to  see  the  Bank  burst  to  its  last  cent.  To  that 
degree  he  was  a  real  huntsman.  There  are  moments 
when  you  would  risk  killing  your  best  horse  and  your- 
self into  the  bargain,  just  to  be  in  for  the  fox's  death; 
but  that  is  not  because  you  want  to  eat  him. 

When  the  beast  was  at  last  run  down,  he  enjoyed  the 
full  sight  of  the  death  in  all  its  details;  however,  he 
took  good  care  not  to  show  himself.  He  had  too  much 
delicacy  to  go  touch  the  Captain  on  the  shoulder  and 
say  :  "  Let  us  count  up  !  "  Vv'^hy  run  at  all  after  a  for- 
tune ^vhich  would  be  sure  to  run  after  him  ?  He  knew 
M.  Bitterlin  to  be  as  scrupulously  honest  as  he  was 
difficult  to  live  with,  and  he  believed  him  to  be  as  inca- 
pable of  an  unworthy  action  as  of  a  gracious  one.  But, 
though  sure  of  his  money,  he  began  again  to  entertain 
doubts  regarding  his  happiness.     The  little  exclamations 


M.   SILIVERGO.  169 

that  escaped  from  the  Captain's  lips  now  and  tlien, 
he  felt  to  be  birds  of  evil  omen,  and  far  from  encourag- 
ing. He  took  it  for  granted,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that 
they  were  all  intended  for  himself.  He  no  longer  had 
the  courage  to  suppose  that  Emma's  father,  on  coming 
to  pay  him  his  winnings,  would  throw  in  his  daughter 
too.  It  would  be  far  more  in  the  Captain's  line  to  fling 
him  his  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs,  and  say : 
*'  This  fortune  is  yours;  it  cost  you  a  louis;  it  cost  me 
my  honor.  And  now,  good-night!'^  Such  a  settlement 
of  accounts  would  not  advance  Meo's  business  prospects 
one  jot.  What  was  to  be  done  in  such  a  case?  What 
reply  was  to  be  given?  What  recompense  could  be 
offered?  What  settlement  could  be  made?  What 
share  could  be  proposed  ?  The  poor  fellow  already 
saw  himself  at  daggers'  points  with  his  terrible  bene- 
factor. 

He  trembled  at  the  idea  of  committing  some  blunder. 
He  felt  confident  that  at  the  first  awkward  word  the 
Captain  would  smash  him  as  he  had  smashed  the  Bank. 
His  late  energetic  resolutions  had  been  long  since  com- 
pletely forgotten.  A  look  from  Emma  might  give  him 
some  courage.  But  he  did  not  know  even  the  name  of 
her  hotel.  He  only  knew  that  he  had  a  devil  of  an 
account  to  settle  with  the  Captain  before  the  night  was 
over. 

In  the  midst  of  this  perplexity,  he  suddenly  remem- 
bered the  good-natured  stout  fairy  who  had  cheered  his 
drooping  spirits  on  one  occasion  already.  He  even 
asked  himself  how  in  the  world  he  had  not  thought 
sooner  of  consulting  Aurelia.     This  was  just  at  the  time 

when  the  old  ladies  were  moving  forward  to  attack 
15 


170  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

M.  Bilterlin.     Meo  immediately  decamped,  counting  on 
this  diversion  as  a  mask  for  his  retreat. 

All  the  reflections  that  he  made- on  the  way  served  to 
confirm  his  confidence  in  the  advice  he  was  proceeding 
to  ask.  "Yes,"  said  he  to  himself,  rubbing  his  hands 
and  quickening  his  pace,  —  "yes,  this  adventure,  this 
money  must  be  made  to  turn  to  our  .advantage  and  to 
secure  our  marriage.  There  is  something  that  is  to  be 
done.  What  is  it?  I  don't  know.  Neither  does 
Emma.  We  are  too  much  in  love ;  people  in  love  can 
never  think.  Aurelia  alone  is  able  to  get  us  out  of  our 
difficulty.  Aurelia  has  wit.  Aurelia  would  like  to  see 
us  happy,  the  dear  good  creature !  Excellent  Aurelia  ! 
Thank  you,  Aurelia!     Hurrah  for  the  noble  Aurelia!" 

Every  step  he  took,  every  word  he  spoke,  animated 
him  more  and  more,  so  that  when  he  arrived  at  the  hotel 
he  was  running  and  shouting. 

"  The  Signora  Aurelia  ?  "  said  he  to  the  porter. 

"  She  is  in  her  room." 

"  Where  is  her  room  ?     Quick  !  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  German,  reading  the  register; 
"  M.  Silivergo;  Signora  Aurelia;  Rooms  8  and  15, 
Corridor  A,  first  floor." 

Meo  was  already  beating  a  reveille  with  his  fists  on 
the  door  of  Number  8.  No  reply.  He  j)ounded  louder. 
The  noise  of  somebody  moving  inside  was  now  plainly 
heard.  Meo  worked  away  with  hands  and  feet,  shout- 
ing like  a  madman  :  "  Open  !  it  is  I !  " 

A  husky  basso  voice  asked  in  Italian  :  "  Chi  ef" 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Meo,  recalled  all  at  once  to  a  sense 
of  the  reality.  He  resumed  in  more  measured  tones, 
using  his  mother-tongue : 


M.   SILIVERGO.  171 

"  My  dear  Monsieur  Sllivergo,  I  am  exceedingly  glad 
to  meet  you.  Open  the  door.  It  is  I,  Bartolomeo 
Narni.     You  know  me  very  well." 

"  I  don't  know  you  any  longer,"  replied  the  bass 
voice. 

"  Open,  anyhow,     I  must  get  in  !  " 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  To  see  the  Signora  Aurelia." 

"  She  is  in  her  room,  locked  up." 

"No  matter;  you  must  go  and  call  her;  I  have  to 
see  her." 

"  This  is  no  time  to  make  visits." 

"  Why,  what  time  is  it  ?  " 

"  Twelve  o'clock." 

"Never  mind.  Open.  I  must  speak  to  the  Signora 
Aurelia  in  your  room." 

"  She  is  asleep  in  her  own." 

"  Wake  her  up." 

"  But,  sir !  —  " 

"  Have  pity  on  a  miserable  lover  !  " 

"Sir!—" 

"  Bitterlin  is  back  :  we  have  broken  the  Bank  :  he  is 
furious  against  me :  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  and  if 
you  don't  open  at  once,  I  shall  burst  in  the  door." 

He  roared  so  loud  that  the  whole  house  woke  up. 
Presently  eight  or  ten  travellers  were  standing  at  their 
doors  in  their  night-dresses,  lamp  in  hand.  The  ser- 
vants of  the  hotel  soon  appeared.  One  of  them  observed 
in  German  that  the  hour  was  unseasonable,  and  that  all 
honest  folks  had  long  gone  to  bed.  Meo  despised  this 
remonstrance,  the  more  so  as  he  did  not  understand  the 
first  word  of  it.     The  German  tried  to  explain  by  ges- 


172  ROUGE    ET    NOT  R. 

tures.  Mco  jumped  at  hiiu  like  a  tiger,  and  exclaimed, 
"  What !  you  rascal  !  Do  you  dare  to  raise  your  hand 
to  a  Miranda !  I  '11  teach  you  the  cost  of  that!"  And, 
suiting  action  to  word,  he  gave  the  poor  wretch  a  kick 
that  sent  him  flying  like  a  rocket  to  the  other  end  of 
the  corridor.  At  the  same  moment,  the  door  of  No.  15 
opened,  and  Aurelia,  half  dressed,  joined  Meo  in  pound- 
ing at  No.  8  and  crying  out  to  M.  Silivergo  to  open. 

"Sir,"  said  M.  Silivergo,  "I  open  the  door  to  put  a 
stop  to  your  scandalous  conduct,  but  only  because  the 
Signora  has  requested  me  to  do  so." 

Meo  could  not  help  bestowing  a  look  of  admiration 
on  the  old  printer  in  his  night-dress.  Short,  stoop- 
shouldered,  fat-paunched,  and  dressed  in  white,  M. 
Silivergo  with  his  bass  voice  offered  no  bad  resemblance 
to  a  hunting-horn  i-rr  massive  silver.  "  Come  in,  sir," 
said  he  to  his  old  proof-reader,  —  "  come  in ;  I  see  I  was 
not  much  mistaken  in  prophesying  that  you  would  come 
to  a  bad  end." 

"  Yes,  come  in,  my  poor  boy ! "  added  the  Signora, 
hastily  arranging  her  dressing-gown.  "You  have 
done  well  to  wake  me  up,  if  I  can  only  be  of  any  use 
to  you.  M.  Silivergo  has  not  common  sense :  don't 
mind  what  he  says.  Tell  us  all  about  your  love  !  They 
have  arrived  !  Anything  new  ?  I  'm  all  attention. 
Signor  Geronimo,  light  up  all  the  candles  in  this  sitting- 
room.     We  can't  throw  too  much  light  on  the  subject." 

"  But,  my  dear !  "  —  objected  the  old  gentleman. 

"  No  buts  !  "  replied  Aurelia. 

"  No  buts  !  "  added  Meo.  He  rapidly  detailed  to  his 
old  friend  the  great  news  of  the  evening.  As  soon  as 
she  heard  that  the  Bank  had  been  broken  for  his  benefit, 


M.    SILIVERQO.  173 

she  was  seized  with  such  a  fit  of  joy  that  she  kissed  him 
on  both  cheeks.  The  old  printer  risked  an  observation. 
"  Hold  your  tongue !  "  said  she ;  "you  're  too  selfish  ! " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Meo,  "  decidedly  too  selfish.  Old 
man,  you  have  never  been  in  love ! "  Having  laid 
down  that  proposition,  he  went  on  with  his  story  and 
then  waited  for  Aurelia's  advice. 

She  reflected  for  some  time,  and  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands,  the  better  to  collect  her  thoughts.  "When  she 
raised  her  head,  her  eyes  were  red  with  tears.  "  Yes, 
dear  boy,"  said  she,  "  your  happiness  is  safe.  Heaven 
must  wish  you  well,  since  it  works  miracles  in  your 
favor.     But  who  can  help  wishing  you  well  ?  " 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  said  M.  Silivergo. 

"  Hold  your  tongue ! "  was  her  only  reply. 

Meo  only  shrugged  his  shoulders.  She  traced  out  for 
him  in  a  few  words  the  whole  plan  of  the  campaign,  and 
he  adopted  it  with  enthusiasm.  "  No  more  weakness," 
said  she,  in  conclusion.  "  Your  future  is  in  your  own 
hands ;  it  is  by  your  own  energies  alone  that  it  is  to  be 
secured.     Be  inflexible  as  an  iron  bar." 

"Against  whom?"  asked  M.  Silivergo. 

"  None  of  your  business,"  she  replied.  "  Now,  dear 
Meo,  you  have  no  time  to  lose.  You  must  start  as  soon 
as  possible.     Is  there  a  train  to-night?" 

"  M.  Silivergo  will  find  out  for  us,"  said  Meo. 
"  Dear  friend,  examine  the  Railway  Guide." 

The  old  gentleman  obeyed.  The  first  train  left  at 
half-past  one  in  the  morning.  "  Quick ! "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  You  have  barely  time  to  run  to  the  station. 
To-morrow  you  will  be  in  Paris.  Barricade  your  room 
and  bide  your  time." 

15* 


174  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  My  baggage  is  at  tlie  liotel,"  said  Meo. 

"  Leave  it  there;  M.  Silivcrgo  will  send  it  to  you  to- 
morrow." 

"  And  my  bill,  which  is  not  yet  paid  ?  " 

"M.  Silivergo  will  pay  it." 

"  I  ?  "  said  the  printer. 

"Of  course!     By  the  way,  have  you  any  money?" 

"  No,  but  my  ticket  is  good  to  take  me  back  to  Paris." 

"  No  matter  for  that ;  you  can't  start  oif  without  a 
cent  in  your  pocket.  Monsieur  Silivergo,  lend  liim  five 
hundred  francs." 

"I  lend  him  five  hundred  francs  !  " 

"  Heavens  !  "  cried  Meo,  "  how  stupid  you  are  !  Are 
you  afraid  I  shall  break  you  ?  I  have  won  more  than 
a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs  this  very  day  at 
Ilouge  et  Noir  !  " 

"  Then  how  is  it  that  you  want  five  hundred  francs?" 

"  Have  n't  you  heard  ?  " 

"Yes!" 

"  Then  you  have  n't  understood  ?  " 

"No!" 

"  Well,  the  Signora  will  explain  it  all  after  I  am  gone. 
But  first  let  me  have  those  five  hundred  francs,  for  I 
have  no  time  to  lose,  and  the  train  won't  wait !  " 

Meo  took  the  money,  embraced  Aurelia,  embraced 
Silivergo,  embraced  the  waiter  that  he  had  been  kicking 
in  the  corridor,  and  never  stopped  to  take  breath  till  he 
arrived  at  the  station. 


THE    CAF^    OF    THE    MUSKETEERS.        175 

CPIAPTER   XII. 

THE   CAFE   OF   THE   MUSKETEERS. 

BY  two  o'clock  iu  the  morning,  the  drizzling  rain  had 
become  decidedly  heavier,  and  it  was  still  beating 
into  the  Captain's  face.  His  last  cigar  had  gone  out ; 
his  stock  of  oaths,  the  most  complete  and  varied  assort- 
ment that  the  world  has  ever  witnessed,  was  running 
short.  But  he  was  fully  determined  to  remain  on  guard 
until  the  Italian  came  to  relieve  him.  At  last  he  per- 
ceived at  the  end  of  the  dark  street  a  human  form, 
preceded  by  a  little  lantern.  He  was  sure  that  this 
belated  individual  was  his  man ;  who  else  would  be  fool 
enough  to  be  on  the  streets  in  such  weather,  and  at  such 
an  hour?  Accordingly  he  ran  up  and  seized  him  by 
the  collar. 

The  form  burst  into  a  fit  of  loud  laughter,  and 
exclaimed,  in  a  thick  voice,  not  without  an  occasional 
hiccup  :  "  Hello  !  is  that  you,  my  noble  captain  of  the 
Rouge  et  Noir  light  infantry  ?  Do  you  rob  lonely  trav- 
ellers on  the  highway,  too  ?  I  thought  you  operated  on 
a  grander  scale.  Better  leave  modest  employment  of 
that  nature  to  poor  shelled-out  individuals  like  myself. 
No  matter ;  I  shall  be  able  to  say  that  I  was  attacked 
after  supper  by  a  man  who  had  just  won  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  francs." 

"  My  dear  Monsieur  Le  Roy,"  said  the  Captain,  rather 
disconcerted,  "  have  n't  you  met  M.  Narni  ?  Did  n't  he 
take  supper  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  my  lord ;  there  was  nobody  at  supper  with  me 


176  llOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

but  the  Duke  and  the  Prince,  aud  two  confounded  par- 
tridges, tough  —  oh  !  so  tough  !  "\\'e  had  to  dissect 
them  with  a  cork-screw.  Narni  must  be  in  his  hotel. 
He's  rather  green  here,  you  know,  and  goes  to  bed." 

"  lie  has  not  come  back  yet ;  his  key  is  still  in  the 
office." 

"  Not  come  back  yet !  Then  he  must  have  stopped 
somewhere  on  the  way.  Don't  be  alarmed,  captain  of 
my  soul ;  when  fast  young  fellows  like  you  and  me 
happen  to  stay  out  all  night,  their  parents  don't  go  next 
morning  to  the  Morgue  to  see  if  they're  drowned." 

"  Alarmed  ?  not  at  all.  Only  I  don't  want  to  go  to 
bed  until  I  have  paid  him  his  money." 

"  What  money  ?  There  is  some  truth  then,  after  all, 
in  this  wonderful  improbability  ?  " 

"  Sir,  I  never  tell  a  lie  !  The  whole  sum  belongs  to 
Monsieur  Narni." 

"  What  a  piece  of  injustice !  Why  don't  it  belong  to 
me  ?  He  no  more  played  than  I  did.  Another  time. 
Captain,  you  must  win  for  me;  I  will  furnish  the  ma- 
chinery. But  is  n't  it  raining  a  little  ?  Come  up  into 
my  room,  you  can  wait  there  more  conveniently." 

"  Thank  you  !  I  prefer  calling  in  to-morrow." 

"Well,  good-night,  then.  Apropos!  Monsieur  Bit- 
terlin.     Now  you  won't  have  to  portion  your  daughter." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir,  if  you  please  ?  " 

"  Dash  it !  the  Bank  saves  you  the  trouble,  you  know. 
I  am  very  glad  of  it  for  poor  Narni's  sake." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  You  don't  see  it,  eh  ?  Then  it  must  be  the  rain 
that  has  got  into  your  eyes.  Are  n't  you  aware  that 
the  young  man  is  dead  in  love?" 


THE    CAFE    OF    THE    MUSKETEERS.        177 

"  With  whom  ?  " 

"Not  with  you,  certainly.  Think  over  it,  my  gal- 
lant captain..  My  own  opinion  is  that  it  is  the  divine 
Emma  he  is  after." 

"  Sir ! " 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  don't  mean  to  say  he  lias  done  any- 
thing to  compromise  her ;  still  —  " 

"Go  to  bed.  Monsieur  Le  Roy.  I  hope  you  will 
sleep  well ;  you're  dreaming  already." 

"  Mind  Avhat  I  have  told  you  ! " 

"You  had  better  mind  what  vou're  talking  about!" 

He  turned  away,  quite  pensive  and  wet  to  the  skin. 
As  he  Avas  passing  down  the  corridor  of  his  hotel,  he 
heard  something  like  a  scuffle  going  on  in  one  of  the 
rooms.  A  married  couple  that  had  lost  all  their  money 
at  Roulette  were  fighting  like  cat  and  dog,  and  the  sleep- 
ins:  hotel  soon  resounded  wildlv  with  screams  and  blows 
and  crashing  furniture.'  The  most  surprising  part  of 
the  adventure  was  that  the  voices  of  the  combatants 
sounded  very  like  those  of  the  romantic  M.  Moring  and 
his  charming  young  bride.  "  Good  !  "  said  the  Captain, 
rubbing  his  frozen  hands  together  hard  enough  to  set 
them  in  a  blaze ;  "  good  !  the  pigeon-house  is  out  of 
corn,  and  the  doves  are  fighting!  Serves  them  right! 
Gamblers  deserve  no  better  fate !  These  two  fools  have 
lost,  and  are  now  tearing  each  other's  eyes  out.  I  have 
won,  and  I  feel  most  like  tearing  out  mine ! " 

His  daughter  was  sitting  up  for  him  in  mortal  uneasi- 
ness. I  mean  she  was  anxiously  waiting  to  hear  some- 
thing about  Meo.  He  scolded  her  for  not  having  gone 
to  bed,  and  ordered  her  to  do  so  right  away.  The  poor 
little  thing  tried  to  disarm  him  by  her  gentleness.     She 

M 


178  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

handed  him  his  dressiug-gown  and  his  slippers,  and 
helped  hira  off  with  his  outside  coat,  which  the  rain  had 
pasted  to  his  back.  When  he  had  put  on  dry  clothing, 
she  came  and  sat  down  at  his  feet,  purring  like  a  little 
cat,  and  kissing  his  hands  in  spite  of  him.  As  she 
knew  "with  what  intentions  he  had  quitted  her  after 
dinner,  she  thought  it  good  policy  to  humor  his  hobby 
a  little  in  order  to  induce  him  to  talk. 

"  Now,  my  dear  little  father,"  said  she,  "  tell  me  what 
you  have  been  seeing.  Is  the  Conversations  Haus  a  fine 
place?  Are  the  saloons  covered  all  over  with  gold,  as 
people  say?  Had  the  ladies  beautifiil  dresses?  And 
those  horrid  gamblers,  what  kind  of  faces  did  they  make 
when  they  saw  their  money  go?  How  you  must  have 
enjoyed  it! " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,"  said  tlie  Captain,  biting  his  nails,  "I 
enjoyed  it  —  hugely." 

"  Did  they  see  you  ?  Did  they  observe  you  ?  Did 
you  let  them  know  that  they  stood  in  the  presence  of  a 
man  of  high-toned  moral  principles  ?  " 

"  Y-e-s.     A  —  little !  " 

"  Men  of  your  stamp  are  not  often  there !  " 

"  Not  very ! " 

"  Were  our  fellow-travellers  there  ?  Have  they  ar- 
rived yet?  M.  Le  Roy  must  have  played  very  high? 
Did  he  break  the  Bank  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  exactly  —  not  that  I  'm  aware  of." 

"  He  was  there  though  ?  " 

"  Yes,  oh  !  yes." 

"  He  was  there  and  did  not  play  !  You  must  have 
converted  him  then?" 

"  Come,  daughter,  go  to  bed.     It  is  half-past  two." 


THE    CAFE    OF    THE    MUSKETEERS.         179 

"  Oh,  let  US  talk  a  little  longer.  I  'ni  not  sleepy  a 
bit  now.  Did  you  see  the  little  German  couple?  They 
did  n't  play,  of  course." 

"  Oh,  no;  of  course  not,"  said  the  Captain. 

What  right  had  he  to  betray  the  poor  creatures,  since 
he  did  not  inform  on  himself? 

"  But  was  there  nobody  playing  at  all  ?  I  hope 
in  gracious  that  Monsieur  Narni  was  as  good  as  the 
rest.  He  must  have  been,  for  he  is  of  your  school,  you 
know.  It  is  from  you  he  has  imbibed  all  those  prin- 
ciples." 

"  H'ni !  a  nice  scholar  you  would  give  me  !  " 

"  Ah  !  he  has  been  playing  then  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  say  so." 

"  How  silly  I  am !  Perhaps  he 's  not  at  Baden  at 
all?" 

"  He  is." 

"  You  have  seen  him  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  spoken  to  him  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Did  n't  he  see  you?" 

"  Go  to  bed !  We  shall  talk  to-morrow  as  much  as 
you  please." 

"  It 's  to-morrow  now.  We  shall  sleep,  if  you  like, 
till  eight  o'clock.  Then  you  will  give  me  your  arm 
and  we  '11  have  a  splendid  walk  through  the  city  and 
its  neio'hborhood." 

"  It  is  raining  in  torrents." 

"  But  fortunately  it  will  not  be  raining  in  the  Con- 
versations Haus.  We  shall  pass  the  whole  day  there. 
How  delightful !     Acknowledge  that  our  trip  has  done 


180  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

me  good !  I  'm  a  liiindred  tinies  more  cheerful  than 
before !     Agatha  would  hardly  know  me."  , 

"  I  have  forbidden  you  ever  to  mention  tliat  creature's 
name  in  my  presence.  Now  then,  go  to  bed  at  once ;  I 
insist  on  it." 

He  pushed  her  into  the  neighljoring  room,  kissed  her 
on  the  forehead,  and  locked  and  double-locked  the  door. 
The  like  of  this  had  never  happened  before,  since  the 
commencement  of  their  tour.  The  Captain  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  leaving  the  door  ajar,  in  order  that  Emma 
might  sleep  under  the  paternal  protection. 

This  irregular  proceeding  did  not  pass  unnoticed. 
Between  love  and  anxiety,  the  young  girl  had  become 
too  vigilant  to  let  anything  escape  her.  She  went  to 
bed  repeating  all  the  monosyllables  that  she  had  ex- 
tracted out  of  her  father,  and  she  studied  into  their 
meaning  more  profoundly  than  if  they  had  been  so  many 
oracles  of  Delphi.  Even  after  her  lamp  had  been  ex- 
tinguished more  than  an  hour,  her  mind  was  still  hard 
at  work.  She  knew  that  her  father  was  no  more  asleep 
than  herself.  The  partition  between  the  rooms  was  very 
thin,  and  she  heard  him  turning  and  twisting  on  his  bed, 
like  a  porpoise  left  high  and  dry  on  shore  by  the  ebb 
tide.  At  last,  she  heard  a  match  scratch  against  the 
wall,  and  saw  a  little  light  making  its  way  into  her 
room  through  the  chinks  of  the  door.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments, her  ear,  alive  to  the  slightest  noise,  was  struck 
by  a  certain  metallic  sound.  She  listened  with  breath- 
less attention  :  the  noise  ceased,  commenced,  and  stopped 
again ;  then  it  sounded  like  the  rumpling  of  paper,  then 
the  rincrina;  sound  of  metal  clearer  than  ever.  Emma 
was  not  more  curious  than  the  rest  of  her  sex,  but  she 


THE    CAFl5   OF    THE    MUSKETEERS.         181 

got  up  and  stole  tiptoe  over  to  the  door.  The  key  was 
turned  so  as  to  stop  up  the  hole  in  the  lock,  but  one  of 
the  chinks  that  admitted  the  light  was  wide  enough  to 
allow  a  peep.  Emma  saw  her  father  seated  before  an 
enormous  sum  of  mone}*.  The  sight  of  such  a  pile  of 
gold  and  bank-notes  made  her  shudder.  She  could 
neither  understand  how  her  father  had  come  to  possess  it, 
nor  why  he  carried  it  along  with  him,  nor  why  he 
had  never  spoken  to  her  about  it,  nor  how  she  had 
chanced  to  be  so  Iouq;  without  discovering  it.  At  the 
same  moment  she  remembered  poor  Meo's  absolute 
penury.  She  looked  on  this  mountain  of  gold  as  a  new 
obstacle  rising  up  between  them. 

A  movement  of  the  Captain's  put  her  to  flight,  and 
she  threw  herself  into  her  bed  more  dead  than  alive. 
The  light  in  the  other  room  was  soon  extinguished  ;  the 
Captain  snored ;  the  clocks  struck  four ;  a  faint  light 
beo'an  to  whiten  the  curtains:  but  Emma  was  still 
awake.  All  the  cocks  in  the  city  had  crowed,  be- 
fore  she  fell  at  last  into  a  restless  and  unrefreshing 
slumber. 

She  was  waked  up  by  a  serenade  that  set  all  the 
Avindows  in  the  hotel  a-rattling.  For  a  moment  or  two 
her  mind,  weakened  by  weariness,  remained  suspended 
between  the  dream  and  the  reality.  It  often  happens 
that  the  sleeper,  instead  of  opening  his  eyes  at  once  to 
everything  around  him,  stops  and  lingers  a  while  in  the 
shadowy  land  of  dreams,  and  improvises  out  of  some 
fantastic  vision  a  picture-frame  for  the  event  that  has 
disturbed  his  repose.  Emma  thought  that  she  was  still 
at  St,  Denis  in  a  class-room,  over  which  her  father  pre- 
sided. Each  pupil  was  reading  out  of  a  book  made  of 
16 


182  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

bank-notes  bound  together  into  a  volume.  Tjie  rain 
was  rattling  against  the  panes,  and  streaming  down  tlie 
glass  in  large  gold  pieces.  Music  was  heard  outside,  and 
all  the  class  ran  to  the  windows.  Emma  saw  a  regiment 
pass  by  headed  by  a  band.  The  Colonel  turned  round 
to  salute  her,  and  Emma  recognized  Meo's  face.  Then 
she  woke  up  in  earnest,  and  heard  the  orchestra  playing 
outside  in  the  yard.  She  jumped  up  out  of  bed  to  see 
Colonel  Meo  pass  at  the  head  of  his  regiment,  but  she 
saw  only  a  score  of  musicians  running  away,  and  her 
father  giving  them  money  to  make  them  run  quicker. 

Tlien,  indeed,  she  began  to  feel  that  she  was  dreaming 
in  earnest.  She  pinched  herself  to  find  out  if  she  was 
still  asleep.  Never  iu  all  her  life  had  she  seen  her 
father  so  decidedly  hostile  to  music ;  never,  above  all, 
had  she  known  him  to  be  so  generous.  She  was  deter- 
mined on  askii^  him  for  the  explanation  of  this  riddle 
the  first  moment  he  would  make  his  appearance.  But 
he  went  off,  chasing  the  musicians,  and  did  not  return 
all  the  morning.  Emma's  two  doors  still  remained 
locked.  * 

At  last  the  Captain  came  back.  He  looked  so  wicked 
that  his  daughter  at  once  lost  all  courage  to  speak  to 
him  on  any  subject.  A  servant  followed  at  his  heels, 
carrying  on  a  tray  a  breakfast  already  prepared.  Hith- 
erto they  had  invariably  taken  their  meals  at  the  public 
table.  Towards  the  end  of  breakfast,  Emma  observed, 
that,  as  all  the  rain  seemed  to  be  over,  they  might  take 
a  little  run  through  the  town. 

"  Impossible,"  said  the  Captain,  peremptorily.  "  We 
must  get  our  baggage  ready  at  once,  and  start  for  Paris." 

To  this  decree,  without  appeal,  the  girl  could  make 


THE    CAF:iE    OF    THE    MUSKETEERS.        183 

no  reply ;  she  now  entertained  no  doubt  that  lier  secret 
had  been  betrayed.  The  only  thing  that  astonished  her 
a  little  was  that  the  Captain  did  not  beat  her.  She 
packed  up  her  trunks  and  went  down  stairs  with  her 
father,  recommending  herself  to  the  mercy  of  God.  In 
the  hall  she  remarked  that  the  hotel  people  had  all  fallen 
into  line  to  get  a  look  at  her  as  she  passed  through. 
In  the  railroad  omnibus,  the  travellers  fixed  their  eyes 
on  her  with  a  persistency  that  was  actually  disagreeable. 
In  the  station,  the  j^assport  agent  was  betrayed  into  a 
slight  start  and  exclamation  when  he  saw  the  name, 
"  Bitterlin." 

They  jogged  along  in  the  German  cars  as  far  as  the 
bridge  at  Kehl.  Tlie  Captain  looked  as  frowning  as 
ever.  Emma  reminded  him,  timidly,  that  he  had  prom- 
ised to  show  her  the  Cathedral  of  Strasburg.  He 
answered,  in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  reply:  "They 
are  repairing  it." 

"  Well,"  thought  the  poor  child,  "  he  is  taking  me 
home  to  kill  me ;  that 's  the  truth  of  the  matter."  She 
tried  to  gain  some  time  at  Luneville ;  the  Captain  had 
told  her  that  he  would  make  some  stay  there;  but  he 
now  protested  that  the  country  was  unhealthy  —  ravaged 
by  the  measles — and  that  nothing  in  the  world  could 
induce  him  to  stop  in  such  a  place.  At  the  Chalons 
junction,  he  told  her  that  there  was  no  longer  anything 
interesting  going  on  in  the  camp,  the  grand  manoeuvres 
being  all  over.  Emma  resigned  herself  to  her  fate  like 
another  Iphigenia,  and  began  bidding  an  eternal  adieu 
to  the  sweet  sunlight.  She  entered  her  house  in  the 
Rue  des  Vosges  as  she  would  a  tomb  in  which  she  was 
to  be  buried  alive. 


184  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

How  great  was  her  surprise  when  she  found'  all  the 
rooms  filled  with  fresh  flowers !  The  mantels,  the 
tables,  the  beds  even,  were  loaded  with  large,  beautiful 
bouquets.  This  lovely  summer  luxury  suddenly 
changed  the  current  of  her  thoughts.  She  laughed  at 
herself  for  having  been  so  much  afraid ;  it  even  made 
her  blush,  and  she  threw  her  arms  around  her  father's 
neck  to  thank  him  and  to  ask  his  pardon.  But  Aga- 
memnon only  turned  his  head  sorrowfully  away,  and  the 
victim  felt  that  it  was  only  for  a  sacrifice  that  the  altar 
had  been  decked. 

However,  eight  days  elapsed,  and  still  she  saw  no 
gleaming  knife  make  its  appearance.  If  her  father  sel- 
dom smiled  on  herj  he  at  least  treated  her  well.  He 
breakfasted  at  home  with  her,  and  took  her  to  the  res- 
taurant to  dinner.  Perhaps  he  wished  to  fatten  up  his 
victim  before  killing  it.  He  shut  her  up  all  alone  dur- 
ing a  good  part  of  the  day,  while  he  was  attending  to 
business  matters,  for,  ever  since  his  return,  he  was  the 
busiest  man  in  all  Paris. 

Poor  Captain !  Dearly  indeed  did  he  pay  for  the 
pleasure  of  having  broken  the  Bank.  The  Baden 
musicians'  serenade  and  the  market-women's  bouquets 
were  the  least  of  his  mortifications.  Meo's  money  was 
a  terrible  burden.  He  wanted  to  restore  it  to  the  owner, 
but  the  owner  could  not  be  found.  The  people  of  the 
Victoria  hotel  had  first  told  him  that  Meo  had  not 
returned,  and  then  that  he  had  departed  without  leaving 
his  address.  M.  Le  Roy  did  not  know  wdiere  his  new 
friend  lived.  All  his  own  proceedings  in  Baden  had  only 
served  to  render  him  a  most  conspicuous  object  of  the 
public  attention,  and  of  course  he  could  not  think  of 
keeping  Emma  any  longer  in  so  ridiculous  a  locality. 


THE   CAFJE    OF    THE    MUSKETEERS.  185 

Since  lu's  return  he  luid  been  searching  all  over  Paris, 
without  finding  the  address  that  he  souglit.  Wliy  did 
he  not  ask  his  daughter  for  it  ?  But  one  can't  think  of 
everything.  He  had  explored  the  promenades,  the 
theatres,  and  all  the  public  places,  without  even  catch- 
ing the  first  glimpse  of  his  man.  He  had  even  dis- 
covered the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  as  Christopher  Colum- 
bus fell  ou  America  while  he  was  searching  for  a  road 
to  the  Indies.  He  displayed  more  energy  in  the  pursuit 
of  this  lover  than  any  lover  has  ever  yet  done  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  mistress.  The  Parisian  directory  gave 
him  the  opportunity  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  three 
different  Narnis,  all  of  them  chimney-builders ;  but  none 
of  these  Narnis  was  his  Narni. 

Whilst  he  was  thus  exhausting  himself  by  his  fruit- 
less exertions,  his  door  was  continually  besieged  by 
swarms  of  those  hungry  applicants  who  scent  the  odor 
of  money  from  afar  off,  and  make  for  it  as  eagerly  as 
hornets  for  honey.  •  Letters  and  visits  poured  in  upon 
him  every  morning ;  and  what  letters !  ye  gods !  and 
what  visits  !  The  founder  of  an  anonymous  company 
offered  him  a  situation  of  two  hundred  thousand  francs 
a  year,  as  soon  as  he  would  have  paid  in  a  bonus  of 
sixty  thousand.  The  commander  of  unknown  orders 
offered  him  a  splendid  cross,  almost  the  same  as  that  of 
the  Legion  of  Honor.  Ten  inventors,  without  a  shoe 
to  their  foot,  promised  to  triple  his  capital  in  fifteen 
days.  He  had  only  to  start  an  establishment  for  manu- 
facturing pumpkin-coffee,  or  red  bean-sugar,  or  the 
umbrella  cigar-holder,  or  the  piano  dressing-table,  or  the 
patent  military-cap-fryiug-pan,  a  valuable  article  in  time 
of  peace,  and  indispensable  to  every  soldier  in  time  of 

10* 


186  ROUGE    ET    XOIR. 

■war.  He  asked  himself  by  what  miracle  or  l)y  -what 
treachery  had  all  Paris  happened  to  have  heard  of  his 
new  fortnne  at  the  same  time;  he  was  not  kept  long  in 
ignorance. 

Eight  days  after  his  arrival,  he  happened  to  enter  the 
Cajc  of  the  Musketeers,  where  he  used  to  amuse  himself, 
formerly,  in  taking  Sebastopol.  It  was  about  ten 
o'clock  at  night,  when  all  the  old  hands  of  the  estab- 
lishment are  always  at  their  j)ost.  Everything  was  .in 
full  blast;  all  the  billiard-tables  were  taken,  all  the 
domino-boards  crowded.  The  beer  foamed  in  the  pew- 
ter mugs,  and  the  tobacco-smoke  rose  in  wreaths  to  the 
ceiling.  As  soon  as  the  Captain's  face  loomed  through 
the  stifling  atmosphere,  his  name  started  out  of  twenty 
mouths  at  once.  The  spojons,  the  knives,  the  pi])es 
rattled  in  cadence  on  the  coffee-cups  and  on  the  wine- 
bottles,  and  a  choral  hymn  rose  on  the  air  in  improvised 
doggerel.  The  ^lite  of  the  company  left  their  places  and 
came  forward  to  present  their  compliments  with  a  certain 
solemnity.  The  owner  of  the  establishment,  with  a 
bottle  in  his  left  hand  and  a  small  glass  in  his  right, 
solicited  the  honor  of  being  allowed  to  offer  him  some- 
thing. The  lady  seated  behind  the  counter  smiled  at 
him  most  kindly. 

"Death  and  everlasting  fire!"  cried  the  Captain, 
starting  back  three  paces,  "  will  some  of  you  tell  me  at 
last  what  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  " 

Everybody  hastened  to  reply  at  once  that  his  modesty 
was  quite  becoming,  but  that  his  noble  conduct,  his 
disinterestedness,  and  his  magnanimity  would  be  borne 
through  the  world  in  spite  of  him,  on  the  white  and 
black  wings  of  the  2)ress.    And  the  owner,  hastening  back 


THE  caf:^  of  the  musketeers.        187 

to  his  drawer,  took  out  of  it  a  large  printed  sheet,  torn 
in  several  places,  and  covered  with  a  thousand  stains. 
"  Read  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  preserved  this  num- 
ber in  my  safe.  These  gentlemen  were  speaking  of 
getting  up  a  game  of  pool  to  have  it  framed ;  for  it  is 
the  glory  of  our  coifee-house  to  have  a  customer  so  dis- 
tinguished as  you." 

"  Hurrah  for  JNIousieur  Bitterlin  !  "  cried  three  young 
men,  too  intent  on  a  game  of  billiards  to  leave  the  table 
and  join  the  deputation. 

The  Captain  threw  himself  on  a  chair,  and  began  to 
read,  with  many  shoulder-shrugs,  a  long  article  entitled 
a  ".Letter  from  Baden." 

The  writer  commenced  with  a  long  dissertation,  iu 
the  well-known  flippant,  pretentious  style  of  too  many 
Parisian  journals,  on  the  summers  of  Paris.  He  went 
on  to  tell  how  all  the  Parisians  had  gone  to  the  country 
to  pluck  hollyhocks,  chrysanthemums,  and  lilacs ;  how 
he  had  walked  the  Boulevards  from  the  Madeleine  to 
the  Bastile  without  meeting  a  single  living  creature  ex- 
cept a  few  Prussian  princes,  and  one  or  two  chocolate 
men.  "  That  is  the  reason,"  said  he,  "  why  I  started  for 
Baden  to  write  my  Paris  article,  at  the  very  moment 
that  an  editor  of  the  Aheille  du  Nord  was  entering  Paris 
in  order  to  write  his  leader  for  St.  Petersburg." 

The  Captain  glanced  rapidly  over  some  very  original 
reflections  on  the  railroads  which  have  superseded  the 
diligences,  but  which  the  diligences  in  course  of  time 
are  to  supersede  in  their  turn,  by  virtue  of  the  law  of 
nniversal  rotation.  He  skipped  fifty  lines  of  highly  di- 
luted philosophy  in  order  to  get  more  quickly  at  the 
part  which  concerned  himself: 


188  KOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  Baden  is  a  pasteboard  city.  M.  Benazet  had  it 
constructed  a  few  years  ago  by  the  scene-painters  of  the 
opera.  lie  gets  it  retouched  every  spring  to  keep  up 
the  illusion.  The  court  scene  is  at  once  imposing  and 
patriarchal ;  the  garden  scene  has  rather  a  fresh  look. 
Arouud  the  Conversations  Haus  are  seen  practicable 
green  walks,  where  I  expect  every  moment  to  behold 
Monsieur  Petitpas  carrying  Madame  Ferraris  on  the  tip 
of  his  finger.  The  sky  scene  was  not  well  managed  the 
day  I  arrived.  At  first,  I  thought  the  darkness  was 
caused  by  a  grease  spot  where  a  lamp  had  fallen  :  but  in 
the  evening,  as  I  returned  to  my  hotel,  I  found  I  was 
mistaken :  it  was  not  oil,  but  water. 

"  The  saloons  are  very  lively.  The  elite  of  European 
society  had  promised  to  be  there,  and  it  has  kept  its 
word.  Under  those  gilded  ceilings  (old  style)  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  squeezing  the  hand  x)f  the  Duke  of 

A ,  of  Prince  B ,  of  the  celebrated  Baron  C , 

and  of  kissing  the  daintily-gloved  fingers  of  the  divine 
Marchioness  D . 

"  Should  n't  you  be  nicely  caught,  pretty  reader  mine, 
if  I  told  you  nothing  about  the  gambling?  Don't  be 
alarmed,  however.  I  arrived  just  in  time  to  be  present 
at  the  most  curious  phenomenon  that  the  meteorological 
liistory  of  Baden  has  recorded  for  the  last  twenty  years. 
The  Bank  exploded  before  my  eyes.  Don't  be  fright- 
ened at  the  word.  Since  that  event,  everybody  has  been 
quite  well,  even  the  Bank. 

"  But  this  miracle  has  been  attended  by  circumstances 
so  exceptional,  and,  if  I  dare  use  the  expression  —  so 
moral ! ! !  —  that  it  is  my  duty  to  relate  it  here.  Lend 
mo  then  your  little  rose-tipped  car  a  moment;  you  shall 


THE    CAFE   OF    TPIE    MUSKETEERS.  189 

see  that  this  very  gambling,  which  people  slander  so 
much,  sometimes  has  its  high  morality. 

"  The  firm  N — i,  one  of  the  most  honorable  in  Paris, 
was  on  the  point  of  suspending  payment,  for  want  of  a 
hundred  thousand  francs,  which  it  had  to  pay  on  the  1st 
of  September. 

"  The  head  bookkeeper  of  the  Messrs.  N — i,  for- 
merly an  officer  in  the  infantry,  came  up  to  his  employers 
and  said  : 

" '  There  is  perhaps  one  way  still  left  to  save  you.' 

" '  Is  it  possible  ? ' 

"  '  I  think  so.' 

"  '  INIention  it ! ' 

'^ '  Here  it  is.     Pay  my  expenses  to  Baden.' 

" '  To  Baden  ! ' 

"  '  Precisely.  Moreover,  give  me  one  napoleon,  taken 
at  random  out  of  the  safe.' 

"  '  In  order  to  — ' 

" '  In  order  to  stake  it  at  Rouge  et  NoirJ 

" '  One  napoleon  ! ' 

" '  No  more.  Something  tells  me  that  I  shall  win  a 
hundred  thousand  francs.' 

"  They  thought  he  was  mad.  — 

"His  well-known  attachment  io  the  firm  justified  the 
supposition. 

"  But  he  added,  in  a  tone  of  conviction  : 

" '  I  have  never  played  in  all  my  life.  I  should 
therefore  have  a  lucky  hand.  Besides,  Heaven  cannot 
permit  the  firm  of  N — i  Brothers  to  fail  for  want  of  a 
hundred  thousand  francs.' 

"  His  confidence  moved  the  Messrs.  N — i. 

"  They  gave  him  his  travelling  expenses. 


190  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  iNIorcover,  one  napoleon  taken  at  random  out  of  the 
safe. 

"  He  set  off. 

"On  Friday,  the  17th  inst.,  he  arrived  at  Baden, 
and  without  even  going  to  an  hotel,  he  ran  straight  to 
the  Conversations  Haus. 

"  One  hour  after,  the  Bank  was  broken,  in  consequence 
of  a  series  of  Blacks. 

"  One  hour  after  that,  the  successful  and  faithful  book- 
keeper took  the  railroad  back  again  to  Paris,  without 
having  eaten  a  morsel  or  drunk  a  drop,  the  bearer  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty-one  thousand  two  hundred  and 
forty  francs. 

"  It  is  now  said  that  the  Messrs.  N — i  had  been 
paid  in  the  meantime  very  large  sums,  which  were 
altogether  unexpected,  and  that  they  have  forced  Bitter- 
lin  to  keep  the  money  to  buy  gloves. 

"  This  great  unknown  man's  name  is  Bittcrlin. 

"  I  saw  him  at  the  Rouge  et  Noir  table. 

"  He  punted  away  royally,*  like  Mithridates,  king  of 
Pontus  [Punt-us). 

"  He  is  an  old  man  of  from  sixty-five  to  seventy, low- 
sized,  ugly,  and  common-looking. 

''  But  the  star  of  hoQor  glitters  on  his  breast. 

"  He  is  worthy  of  it." 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.       191 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND. 

AFTER  that  evening  tlie  Captain  slept  no  more. 
His  name,  hitherto  so  pure  and  spotless,  —  a  name 
which,  by  rights,  should  have  been  borne  by  a  marshal 
of  France,  and  which,  in  spite  of  fate,  was  still  the 
name  of  a  man  of  principle,  —  that  name  to  be  thus 
branded  about  in  the  papers,  an  object  of  curiosity  to  a 
heartless  public !  He  shuddered  with  horror  at  the  idea 
that  the  whole  world  should  henceforth  speak  of  him  as 
a  great  prestidigitator.  The  absurd  details  into  which 
they  had  interwoven  his  adventure  should  soon  get  him 
enrolled  in  the  "  Gallery  of  Celebrated  Gamblers."  He 
would  not  dare  to  look  at  a  picture-dealer's  window,  for 
fear  of  finding  his  portrait  there.  And  what  would  his 
daughter  say  as  soon  as  she  knew  the  conduct  her  father 
had  been  guilty  of?  What  respect  could  she  preserve 
for  his  authority  ?  And  now,  to  crown  the  joke,  Narni 
could  not  be  found,  and  the  polluting  crowns  still  waited 
for  their  master.  The  Captain  felt  that  his  conscience 
would  be  at  least  a  hundred  pounds  lighter  the  day  that 
he  could  wash  his  bauds  of  this  confounded  money. 

In  his  trouble  he  all  at  once  thought  of  employing 
the  assistance  of  the  police.  He  had  known  the  day 
when  these  agents  of  the  Public  Safety  willingly  inter- 
fered in  private  matters,  and  he  never  supposed  that  the 
world  had  much  changed  since  the  time  when  Fouch^ 
was  minister.  So  one  fine  morning  he  involved  himself 
in  the  labyrinths  of  the  Head  Police  Office,  and  towards 


102  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

the  end  of  the  day,  after  endless  ramblings  and  circum- 
locutions, he  found  himself  at  last  stranded,  like  a  cast- 
away, in  the  department  for  the  reception  of  lost  goods. 
The  clerk  who  received  him  could  not  help  smiling 
when  lie  heard  his  request,  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  the  service 
you  demand  is  not  at  all  in  our  line.  Nobody  here  will 
])erforra  it  for  you,  let  the  reward  you  choose  to  offer  be 
M'hat  it  may.  Where  should  we  ever  end,  great  mercy  ! 
if  we  even  once  undertook  anything  of  the  kind  ?  You 
know  that  one-half  of  Paris  passes  its  whole  existence 
in  looking  for  the  other  half.  The  city  is  full  of  cred- 
itors looking  for  their  debtors,  lovers  looking  for  their 
mistresses,  speculators  looking  for  their  capitalists,  hus- 
bands looking  for  their  wives,  sharpers  looking  for  their 
dupes,  insulted  looking  for  their  insulters  to  greet  them 
with  a  rousing  kick  in  the  rear.  Undoubtedly  we 
should  be  delighted  to  help  all  honest  folks  in  finding 
each  other  out ;  but  we  cannot  read  hearts,  you  know, 
and  with  the  best  intentions  in  the  world,  we  could  not 
help  occasionally  bringi«g  about  the  most  unfortunate 
results.  You  ask  me  for  the  address  of  a  certain  ]Mon- 
sieur  Narni;  I  am  willing  to  believe  that  you  do  so  in 
perfect  good  faith,  and  that  you  do  not  entertain  the 
most  remote  idea  in  the  world  of  injuring  him.  But 
suppose  another  Narni  came  here  to-morrow  to  Hud  out 
your  address  for  the  purpose  of  writing  love-letters  to 
your  wife  ?  " 

"Fortunately,  sir,  my  wife  is  dead,  and  besides  —  " 
"  Excuse  me,  sir,  I  spoke  in  general.     Let   us  say 
then,  if  you  please,  that  a  certain  Narni  has  a  notion  of 
stealing  into  your  house  for  the  purpose  of  relieving  you 
of  your  money." 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.      193 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  he  would !  Listen  to  me,  sir,  and 
judge  if  my  views  are  honorable.  I  am  looking  for  M. 
Narni  to  restore  him  a  sum  of  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  francs." 

■'  "  Then,  sir,  you  don't  want  our  help.  Put  an  adver- 
tisement to  that  effect  in  the  papers,  and  M.  Narni  won't 
be  long  in  making  his  appearance,  or  I  'm  very  much 
mistaken.  You  will  have  two  of  them  rather  than  one, 
and  you  will  be  very  fortunate  indeed  if  you  don't  see 
them  arriving  by  the  dozen." 

"Oh,  the. thing  is  only  too  public  already,  and  those 
rascally  newspaper  busybodies  have  talked  more  about 
it  than  they  should  have  done !  Good-bye,  sir.  I  see  I 
have  been  only  on  a  wild-goose  chase.  But  I  am  not 
sorry  to  have  discovered  that  here  in  your  office,  as 
everywhere  else,  there  is  great  room  for  improvement." 

On  his  return  home,  he  found  the  following  anony- 
mous note  lying  on  his  table : 

"  The  man  you  are  looking  for  lives  under  your  nose. 
Go  to-morrow  morning  to  Rue  St.  Catherine,  No.  4,  and 
you  will  catch  him  in  bed." 

It  was  Meo  who  thus  discovered  on  himself  in  order 
to  hurry  up  the  march  of  events. 

Next  morning  at  nine  o'clock  the  Captain  stuffed  the 
hundred  and  twenty  thousand  francs  into  his  pockets, 
and  hopped  about  in  his  rooms  as  lively  as  a  bird.  For 
years  his  daughter  had  never  seen  him  in  such  good 
humor.  He  rubbed  his  hands  together,  and  stopped 
every  moment  to  crack  the  knotty  joints  of  each  finger. 
I  think  even,  Heaven  bless  us,  that  he  hummed  some- 
thing like  a  tune  between  his  teeth !     Emma  could  not 

account  for  such  an  exuberance  of  spirits  j  she  was  still 

17  N 


194  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

niuc'li  more  astonished  when  he  chucked  lier  under  the 
chin,  and  said  :  "  Any  commands  for  M.  Narni  ?  I  am 
going  to  see  him  this  morning."  What  answer  she 
made,  even  she  lierself  has  never  since  been  able  to  tell : 
she  had  a  mist  before  her  eyes  and  a  bee-hive  in  each 
ear.  But  the  Captain  paid  no  attention  to  such  embar- 
rassment. He  put  on  his  hat  crossways,  shut  the  doors 
with  a  merry  swing,  and  went  down  stairs  rattling  his 
key  against  the  banisters.  Five  minutes  afterwards  he 
entered  Mco's  room  without  knocking  at  the  door. 

The  Italian  was  waiting  for  him  with  a  firm  foot, 
though  lying  stretched  out  at  full  length  between  the 
sheets  of  a  bad  bed.  During  the  fifteen  days  since  his 
return  from  Baden,  he  had  been  able  to  complete  the 
plan  of  the  campaign  so  well  sketched  out  by  Aurelia. 
He  had  armed  himself  at  all  points  for  a  decisive  battle; 
his  arseuals  of  skill  and  courage  were  now  full  to  the  brim. 

"  By  Jove !  "  cried  the  Captain,  seating  himself  astride 
on  a  chair,  "  you  can  boast  of  having  made  me  run  ! " 

"Hey?  What's  the  matter?  Who  goes  there?" 
replied  ]\Ieo,  stretching  his  arms  and  rubbing  his  eyes. 
Then  sitting  up  in  the  bed,  he  exclaimed,  with  a  joy  that 
seemed  perfectly  artless  :  "  Is  it  you,  my  dear  Monsieur 
Bitterlin  ?  How  good  of  you  to  give  me  such  a  pleas- 
ant surprise  !     Such  kind  attention  goes  to  my  heart !  " 

"  My  young  friend,"  began  the  Captain  — 

"  Thank  you  for  that  good  word ! "  interrupted  the 
Italian.  "  Ah  !  why  did  n't  you  grant  me  your  friend- 
ship at  once  ?     Permit  me  to  shake  your  hand." 

"  That  '11  do !  that  '11  do !  oh  !  that  '11  do !  " 

"  And  have  you  been  very  well  ever  since  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you?  Is  JNIadcmoiselle  Bittcrlin's 
health  good  ?  " 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.      105 

"  Yes,  yes ;  excellent.  But  I  have  come  to  talk  on 
business." 

"  To  me  on  business  ?  No  doubt  you  take  me  for 
somebody  else." 

"  Tut,  tut,  tut !  Always  a  chatterer  !  Let  us  talk 
less,  and  keep  to  the  subject." 

"  My  respected  friend,  I  am  all  attention." 

"  Do  you  remember  the  night  I  saw  you  in  Baden,  at 
the  gambling  table  ?" 

Meo  popped  his  head  under  the  bed-clothes,  like  a 
child  caught  committing  some  fault.  "  Listen,"  said  he, 
"  my  dear  Captain  ;  I  am  no  gambler,  and  if  I  had  been 
one,  your  fine  discourses,  which  are  always  present  to 
my  memory,  would  have  cured  me  at  once  of  such  a 
vice.  But  I  am  weak  and  easily  led.  People  can  do 
what  they  please  with  me,  as  you  are  well  aAv^re.  If  I 
had  served  under  the  Em2)eror's  orders,  or  under  yours, 
I  might  perhaps  have  become  a  hero ;  if  I  had  fallen 
under  Cartouche's  direction,  or  Passatore's,  I  should 
most  likely  have  come  to  a  bad  end.  My  companions 
at  Baden  were  a  set  of  wild  young  fellows  ;  they  gam- 
bled away  from  morning  till  night.  What  more  expla- 
nation is  needed  ?  I  allowed  myself  to  be  led  on  by 
their  bad  example.  But  at  least  you  will  do  me  the 
justice  to  acknowledge  that  the  moment  I  saw  you  enter 
the  room,  I  blushed  deeply  for  my  conduct.  I  remem- 
bered our  conversation  at  SchafFhausen ;  I  dreaded  one 
of  those  paternal  remonstrances  which  your  growing 
friendship  would  urge  you  to  make  in  my  regard.  Why 
need  I  say  more  ?  I  vanished  from  your  presence  like 
weakness,  from  strength,  folly  from  wisdom,  vice  from 
virtue." 


196  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  H'm  !  "  saitl  the  Captain,  clearliig  his  throat  and 
scratching  his  heath  He  resumed,  timidly  :  "  You  left 
twenty  francs  behind  you  on  the  table." 

"Twenty  francs?  Faith,  likely  enough.  I  hardly 
knew  what  I  was  doing." 

"  I  bring  you  back  your  twenty  francs," 

"  You,  Captain?  Now,  really,  that  is  too  kind  !  but 
it  is  an  excellent  lesson  for  me,  and  I  thank  you  for  it 
with  all  my  heart." 

"  I  bring  them  back  to  you  with  the  money  that  they 
have  won." 

"  Oh,  you  're  joking  !  My  twenty  francs  to  win 
anythi 


ina: 


t" 


'*  Your  twenty  francs  have  won  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  francs,  and  here  's  the 
whole  sunff"  He  began  to  empty  his  pockets  on  the 
little  table  of  unpainted  wood.  Meo  watched  his  pro- 
ceedings with  a  stupefaction  exceedingly  well  played. 

"  Now,  ray  young  friend,"  continued  the  Captain,  "  I 
bid  you  good-bye." 

Meo  seized  him  by  the  coat-tail. 

"  Wait  a  moment !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Do  me  the  favor 
to  explain  all  this ;  I  'm  not  quite  awake  yet !  This 
money  —  tell  me  how  the  thing  took  place,  and  prove 
to  me  that  I  am  not  dreaming." 

"  Oh,  it  is  all  quite  simple.  Your  twenty  francs  had 
been  staked  with  the  intention  of  winning,  had  n't  they? 
Well,  they  had  the  luck,  and  they  won  ;  that 's  all.  I 
have  the  honor  to  — " 

"  ^yon  ?  But  how  ?  Keeping  on  the  same  spot  all 
the  time?  My  poor  napoleon  to  win  such  an  immense 
sum  as  that !   Captain,  you  are  surely  making  fun  of  me." 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.      197 

"  You  see  quite  plainly  that  I  'm  doing  no  such  thing." 
"  I  don't  see  anything  at  all.     Was  it  on  the  Red  or 

the  Black?" 

"  On  the  —  Black,  if  I  'm  not  mistaken." 

"  Excuse  me,  I  beseech  you,  Captain,  for  asking  your 

attention  so  long  to  things  that  are  so  repugnant  to  you ; 

but  how  many  times  did  the  Black  win  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  now  you  're  asking  too  much.      How  can  I 

tell  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  is  easy  enough  to  calculate.  Please  hand 
me  that  pencil,  and  the  sheet  of  paper  you  see  lying  on 
the  table  there  ;  that  's  it.     Thank  you." 

"  Let  me  see.  I  think  I  remember  that  the  Black 
turned  up  fourteen  times." 

"  Good  !  But  if  it  turned  up  fourteen  times  I  have 
not  all  my  money  here.  A  napoleon  doubled  on  itself 
fourteen  times,  makes  three  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
thousand  six  hundred  and  eighty  francs." 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  robber  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Captain  !  how  can  you  say  so  ?  But  stop  !  Now 
I  think  of  it,  there  's  a  maximum  stake  that  the  players 
cannot  exceed.  That  will  settle  everything.  How  much 
is  this  maximum  ?     Six  thousand  francs,  I  think." 

"  It  is  quite  possible,"  answered  the  Captain,  wiping 
his  forehead. 

"  There  !  Now  my  calculation  is  made.  At  the 
ninth  deal  the  napoleon  had  won  by  itself  alone  ten 
thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  francs,  and  so  had 
exceeded  the  maximum.  It  must  have  been  helped  to 
win  the  rest.  Somebody  must  have  taken  away  the  four 
thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  francs.  What  friend 
did  the  kind  office  ?  " 


198  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

''  I  cliel.     1  Iiai)i)ciie(]  to  be  stiiiuling  there,  and  — " 

"  You  gave  it  a  helping  hani,!  ?  I  see.  Of  course, 
then,  you  kept  on  doing  so,  taking  up  six  thousand 
francs  every  oifer  ?  " 

"  1  was  standing  there,  and  I  thought  it  my  duty 
to  — " 

"  You  are  the  best  of  men.  But  do  you  know  tliat 
at  six  thousand  francs  an  oifer  you  must  win  18^  times 
to  get  at  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  francs?  18 
and  9  are  27.  Blacik,  then,  must  have  turned  up  27^ 
times  without  a  single  interruption." 

"  I  don't  say  that  —  I  — " 

"  Ah  !     Red  won  at  last,  then  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  it  did." 

"  Then,  of  course,  I  lost." 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  flatter  myself  that  somebody  took  the  trouble  to 
pay  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  was  standing  there,  and  — " 

"  Thank  you.  Captain.  But  surely  I  could  not  have 
obstinately  kept  on  Black  all  the  time !  Did  n't  I  ever 
venture  on  Red  ?  " 

"Very  likely." 

"  My  money  could  not  have  walked  over  there  by 
itself.     Somebody  helped  it ;  who  ?  "  • 

"  I  was  standing  there,  and  — " 

"  But  if  you  were  standing  there.  Captain, —  if  you  took 
up  the  money  and  put  down  the  money,  and  if  you 
changed  it  from  Red  to  Black  and  from  Black  to  Red, 
according  as  you  thought  proper,  it  is  you  that  have 
been  playing,  and  not  I,  —  it  is  you  that  won  the  money, 
and  therefore  it  is  to  you  that  it  belongs.  Give  me  my 
twenty-franc  piece  then,  and  take  away  the  rest." 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.      199 

"Sir,  you  know  ray  principles.  I  despise  gambling; 
therefore  I  don't  gamble,  therefore  I  don't  win,  therefore 
I  don't  accept  winnings  that  I  should  be  ashamed  of. 
In  a  moment  of  forgetfulness,  I  may  possibly  have 
interested  myself  a  little  in  looking  on  at  the  game,  and, 
if  you  absolutely  insist  on  it,  I  may  have  even  helped 
to  assist  the  luck  that  enriched  you.  But  a  little  act  of 
indiscretion,  pardonable  because  it  was  wholly  disinter- 
ested, would  become  a  shameful  fault  if  I  made  it  a 
source  of  profit." 

"  Sir,  I  understand  the  motives  that  prompt  you  to 
reject  this  money,  but  I  consider  it  very  surprising,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  that  you  should  seek  to  get  rid  of 
your  difficulty  by  making  me  a  scapegoat.  I  forgot  a 
twenty-franc  piece  on  a  gambling  table,  granted ;  but  I 
did  not  ask  you  to  play  it  for  me.  I  was  not  your  part- 
ner ;  I  had  n't  even  the  honor  of  being  reckoned  among 
the  number  of  your  friends.  What  was  there  in  com- 
mon between  us?  Suppose  that,  after  winning  several 
thousand  francs  for  you,  my  napoleon  had  induced  you 
to  keep  on  playing  until  you  had  lost  your  pantaloons, 
would  you  have  then  had  the  face  to  come  and  take 
mine?  " 

The  Captain  was  now  obliged  to  reflect  a  little  while. 
He  had  not  expected  such  a  reception.  In  his  eagerness 
to  get  rid  of  the  burden  that  oppressed  him,  he  had 
never  foreseen  that  a  poor  young  man  might  possibly 
refuse  a  ready-made  fortune ;  that  so  docile  and  submis- 
sive a  creature  might  resist  him  ;  that  a  mind  of  such 
moderate  abilities  might  be  able  to  argue  more  vigor- 
ously and  more  logically  than  himself.  Taken  totally 
unawares,  then,  by  his  adversary,  he  grasped  blindly  at 
arguments  merely  personal  and  deplorably  feeble. 


200  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"My  young  friend,"  said  he,  "consider  .that  I 
am  double  your  age,  that  all  my  life  I  have  condemned 
gambling,  and  that  I  could  never  bear  to  look  at  myself 
in  the  glass  if  I  should  sec  nothing  there  but  the  face 
of  a  man  who  had  been  enriched  by  cards." 

"My  dear  sir,"  replied  Meo,  "if  you  think  that 
money  won  by  gambling  is  disreputable  to  keep,  why 
do  you  wish  to  make  such  a  present  to  me  ?  " 

"Because  it  is  yours!  Will  you  believe  me  when  I 
swear  on  my  soul  and  conscience  that  it  was  for  you  I 
was  playing  all  the  time?" 

"  Will  you  give  me  the  lie  if  I  remind  you  that  I 
never  gave  you  any  authority  to  do  so  ?  " 

"  I  would  never  have  run  the  risk  of  winning  if  I 
thought  I  could  make  a  single  cent  by  it." 

"  Suppose  that  to-morrow,  or  next  day,  I  should  go 
and  say  to  you :  '  Captain,  I  killed  a  traveller  on  the  St. 
Denis  road  with  a  knife  that  belonged  to  you.  I  i)lun- 
dered  him  of  everything  that  he  had  about  him ;  I  swear 
on  my  soul  and  conscience  that  it  was  for  you  I  took  all 
the  trouble,  therefore  accept  this  purse  and  watch,  they 
are  your  property,  —  my  principles  condemn  murder, 
and  I  would  never  have  committed  such  an  infamous 
action  if  I  thought  I  could  make  a  single  cent  by  it.' 
What  answer  would  you  make  ?  Would  n't  you  say  : 
'  Be  off,  you  scoundrel !  Go  wash  yourself  in  the  river, 
and  don't  try  to  wipe  yourself  with  my  coat  ? '  " 

"  Comparison  is  not  argument.  Monsieur  Narni. 
Your  subtleties  may  embarrass  me,  but  they  shall  never 
convince  me.  This  money  belongs  to  you,  it  is  in  your 
room,  do  what  you- please  with  it.  As  for  me,  I  have 
dune  my  duty,  and  1  now  bid  you  good  morning." 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's     HAND.       201 

So  saying,  he  gained  the  door  and  made  off  like  a 
pickpocket.  Meo  was  not  sufficiently  dressed  to  follow 
him.  As  the  Captain  rushed  from  the  door,  he  Avas 
very  near  upsetting  Agatha,  his  old  cook,  who  Avas 
coming  to  do  the  housework ;  but  he  did  not  have  time 
to  recognize  her.  He  returned  home  and  took  an 
enormous  breakfast,  without  however  giving  his  daughter 
the  slightest  hint  why  he  was  in  such  good  spirits.  The 
whole  of  this  day  was  consecrated  to  pleasure :  he  put 
Emma  in  a  carriage,  showed  her  all  the  improvements 
and  embellishments  in  the  Bois  de  Vincennes,  and  told 
her  the  history  of  the  castle.  They  dined  outside  a 
rural  restaurant,  under  dusty  trees,  smelling  very  decid- 
edly of  rabbit.  This  little  dissipation  was  prolonged 
so  far  into  the  evening,  that  it  was  fully  ten  o'clock 
before  father  and  daughter  returned  home. 

Emma  had  already  retired  to  her  little  nook,  and 
was  there  puzzling  her  brain  in  a  vain  effort  to  compre- 
hend the  events  of  the  day,  when  all  at  once  a  formid- 
able oath  shook  the  Captain's  room.  She  ran  to  see 
what  was  the  matter,  but  her  father  shut  the  door  in  her 
face,  crying :  "  Keep  out !  "  And  the  tinkling  of  gold 
pieces  and  the  rumpling  of  bank-notes  once  more  fell 
upon  her  ear.  The  Captain  had  found  a  hundred  and 
twenty-one  thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  francs  lying 
on  the  foot  of  his  bed. 

He  put  the  treasure  into  his  pockets,  saw  that  his 
daughter  had  gone  to  bed,  locked  and  double-locked  up 
everything,  abused  the  porter  for  having  seen  nobody 
going  up-stairs,  and  reached  Meo's  abode  in  a  single 
jump.  This  time,  the  Italian  was  really  asleep.  It 
took  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  knocking  and  racket  to 
wake  him  up. 

t 


202  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  It  appears,"  said  the  Captain,  "  that  you  did, not  ex- 
pect me  this  evening." 

"  I  am  not  the  less  flattered  by  your  visit.  You  saw 
that  I  kept  my  twenty  francs.  Good  accounts  make 
good  friends." 

"  Take  care,  sir !  Tilings  are  beginning  to  get  un- 
pleasant. Will  you  explain  to  me  by  what  means  this 
money  got  back  into  my  house?" 

"  I  never  disclose  my  stratagems  of  war.  You  left 
my  house  without  my  permission ;  to  enter  your  house 
I  did  not  ask  yours." 

"  But,  sir,  that  was  the  act  of  a  malefactor." 

"  I  oppose  cunning  to  violence.  Against  a  benefactor 
who  puts  his  foot  on  our  throat,  we  defend  ourselves  as 
well  as  we  can." 

''  Well,  sir,  I  shall  have  recourse  to  law.  The  courts 
will  force  you  to  keep  what  belongs  to  you  whether  you 
like  it  or  not." 

"  The  courts  will  have  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  our 
ulfairs,  gambling  debts  not  being  recognized  by  the  law. 
If  I  sued  you  for  these  one  hundred  and  twenty  thou- 
sand francs,  all  the  judges  in  the  country  would  con- 
demn me.  How  then  do  you  think  that  they  can  com- 
pel me  to  take  the  money  ?  " 

"  Confusion  !  Then  we  shall  never  come  to  an  under- 
standing ;  for,  as  for  my  part,  I  will  never  yield  !  " 

"  Nor  I  either.  Captain.  I  'm  one  of  your  own 
school !  You  want  me  to  take  that  money ;  I  want  you 
to  keep  it.  Neither  of  us  will  yield  an  inch.  Are  you 
willing  to  split  the  difference  and  take  half?" 

"  No,  sir  !  " 

"Nor   I,  eitlici".     It   is   wonderful   how   we   agree. 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.      203 

Wliat  shall  we  do?  Of  all  the  modes  of  settlement 
there  is  only  one  possible,  and  that  I  don't  want." 

"  AVhat  one  is  that  ?  " 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence  to  you,  since  I  object  to  it." 

"But  what  is  it?" 

"  There  are  plenty  of  people  who  would  accept  it  with 
delight ;  but  I  've  already  had  the  honor  to  inform  you 
that  I  'm  not  one  of  that  kind." 

"  But  you  can  at  least  say  what  it  is." 

"  I  don't  want  it,  I  won't  have  it,  I  decidedly  object 
to  it !  A  marriage  between  your  daughter  and  myself 
would  end  the  dispute  by  leaving  the  money  undi- 
vided. It  is  an  arrangement  at  once  easy,  honorable, 
and  even  agreeable ;  but  I  don't  want  it !  " 

"  Fire  and  fury,  sir !  You  refuse  my  daughter's 
hand !     But,  sir,  I  don't  offer  it  to  you." 

"You  do  right,  sir,  for  I  would  refuse  it  unhes- 
itatingly." 

"  And  why  so,  sir,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  explanations  to  offer." 

"  But  I  insist  on  explanations.  It  seems  to  me  that 
my  daughter  is  neither  ugly  nor  disagreeable ;  what  the 
devil  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Sir,  I  have  nothing  whatever  to  say  against  Made- 
moiselle Bitterlin's  beauty." 

"Then  you  have  something  to  say  against  her  con- 
duct?" 

"Nothing  that  I  know  of,  sir.  If  I  refuse  your 
daughter's  hand,  it  is  not  because  I  have  any  personal 
fault  to  find  with  her." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 


204:  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  You  said  personal." 

"  Quite  possibly." 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  that?     Personal?" 

"Well,  personal!" 

"  Personal !  personal !  Is  it  the  family  then  that 
does  not  enjoy  your  esteem  ?  Do  you  mean  to  convey 
the  idea  that  Captain  Bitterlin  is  not  good  enough  to 
be  your  father-in-law  ?  " 

"  Heaven  forbid,  Captain  !  I  consider  you  one  of 
the  noblest  men  of  our  times." 

"  But  then,  sir,  if  the  daughter  and  the  father  are 
beyond  reproach,  with  whom  do  you  find  fault  ?  Per- 
haps with  the  mother  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  had  the  honor  of  seeing  Madame 
Bitterlin." 

"  Swear  to  me  that  you  have  never  heard  mention  of 
her." 

"  I  don't  know  if  the  oath  is  necessary;  I  have 
heard  people  speak  of  Madame  Bitterlin  as  a  very 
beautiful  and  elegant  lady." 

"Elegant?  "Why  not  fashionable?  Who  told  you 
that?  who?" 

"  You  did  so  yourself,  sir,  if  I  have  a  good  memory." 

"  Oh !  it  is  written  on  high  that  I  shall  never  know 
anything.  So  then,  sir,  you  refuse  my  daughter  because 
you  are  afraid  it  runs  in  the  blood.     That's  it,  isn't  it?" 

"  I !  sir.  I  swear  to  you  such  a  thought  has  never 
entered  my  head." 

"  Why  then  do  you  refuse  my  daughter?" 

"  Because." 

"  That  is  no  reason.     Are  you  married  ?  " 

"No." 


HOW    MEO    REFUSED    EMMA's    HAND.      205 

"  Have  you  any  objection  towards  matrimony?  " 

"  Not  the  least." 

"Then,  sir,  I  consider  it  very  impertinent  in  you  to 
refuse  my  daughter." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir.  Suppose  I  had  asked  you  for  her 
hand,  would  you  have  granted  it  ?  " 

"  I  ?     Never !  " 

"You  would  have  refused  it?" 

"  Would  n't  I  ?  death  and  destruction  !  " 

"  What  do  you  complain  of  then  ?  " 

"  I  complain  of  your  insolence ;  and  I  insist  that 
you  retract  what  you  have  said." 

"  I  said  that  I  had  the  most  sincere  esteem  for  INIadc- 
moiselle  Emma  Bitterlin,  and  likewise  for  her  father 
and  mother.     What  must  I  retract?     I  am  ready." 

"  And  I  am  ready  too,  sir,  to  give  you  the  chastise- 
ment that  you  deserve." 

"Your  hand  on  that,  Captain!  Now  I  think  you're 
right.  A  sword -thrust  never  proves  anything,  but 
sometimes  it  settles  everything.  If  you  kill  me,  I 
accept  your  money  and  your  daughter;  the  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  francs  will  pay  my  funeral  ex- 
penses, and  I  shall  marry  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin  m 
extremis." 

"  A  truce  to  such  jesting,  sir !     Do  you  persist  in 

refusing  to  accept  the  sum  that  belongs  to  you  ?  " 

"  Obstinately.     Moreover,  I  have  the  honor  to  refuse 

the  hand  of  Mademoiselle,  your  daughter." 

"  Well,  sir,  you  shall  hear  from  me." 

"  It  will  give  me  much  pleasure,  sir." 
18 


20G  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

PREPARATIONS. 

TPIE  One  Hundred  and  Fourth  of  the  Line  was  gar- 
risoned at  Paris.  The  morning  after  the  Captain 
had  dechired  war  on  his  son-in-hiw,  he  ran  off  at  an 
early  hour  to  the  Military  Coffee-house  of  the  Rue  St. 
Antoine,  and  asked  for  the  Army  Register  of  1858. 
Meo,  on  his  side,  after  having  slept  all  night  like  a  toji, 
entered  a  readinQ;-room  and  beiran  to  examine  the 
register  for  the  list  of  the  officers  of  the  One  li^undred 
and  Fourth.  The  two  enemies  had  excellent  reasons  for 
choosing  their  seconds  in  that  regiment.  The  Captain 
had  several  comrades  there,  and  Meo  several  friends. 
Both  had  left  in  it  recollections  and  traditions  that  were 
not  easily  forgotten.  The  lieutenants'  mess-table  was 
occasionally  enlivened  by  some  historical  anecdotes  re- 
lating to  Captain  Bitterlin,  and  all  the  officers  that  had 
been  at  the  siege  of  Rome  still  remembered  Miranda's 
noble  bearing  before  the  Council  of  War. 

The  Captain  fixed  his  choice  on  two  soldiers  of  for- 
tune who  had  been  sergeants  in  his  company,  lieutenant 
Boucart  and  Captain  Roblot — a  pair  of  worthies  true  as 
steel,  brave  as  fire,  oracles  on  theory,  and  who  never 
mixed  water  in  their  brandy.  He  found  them  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Reuilly  Barracks,  seated  before  a 
cigar-shop,  and  whetting  their  teetl>  for  breakfast. 
They  rose  at  his  approach,  and  saluted  him  with  all  the 
respect  due  to  the  perfect  model  of  all  the  virtues  of  a 
soldier.     They  squeezed  each  other's  hands  till  their 


PREPARATIONS.  207 

fingers  cracked,  and  then  adjourned  to  cat  a  little. 
Then  came  the  coffee,  with  its  usual  "  fixings,"  three- 
cent  cigars,  and  small  glasses  of  brandy.  Wlien  the 
three  Horatii  had  made  their  mouths  too  hot,  they  had 
to  get  some  bottles  of  beer  to  cool  them.  But  the  beer 
gave  such  a  chill  to  their  stomachs  that  they  had  to  brew 
a  bowl  of  puixch  to  counteract  its  effects.  The  Captain 
had  paid  for  the  breakfast;  his  brave  comrades  would 
not  be  behindhand  with  him,  so  the  three  warriors 
rivalled  each  other  in  acts  of  politeness  till  five  o'clock 
in  the  evening.  Not  until  then  did  the  old  Captain 
expose  the  object  of  his  visit.  Laying  his  cigar  on  the 
edge  of  the  table,  and  taking  his  friends  by  the  hand, 
he  looked  at  them  right  in  the  eye,  and  said  in  a  low 
voice : 

"  Boys,  this  is  not  all ;  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you." 

"  Present !  "  cried  Roblot. 

"Captain,"  added  the  other,  "for  life  and  for  death!" 

"  Thank  you.     Swords  are  trumps." 

"  Bravo  !  Ah  !  that 's  the  little  game  Captain  Bit- 
lerlin  is  always  at  home  in  !  " 

"  Ha !  ha !  Some  of  our  swaggerers  have  already 
learned  that  to  their  cost." 

"  Boys,  the  thing  is  this ;  a  youngster  has  been  inso- 
lent." 

"  And  you  're  going  to  give  him  a  lesson  !  One,  two, 
tch!" 

"  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it." 

But  just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  commencing  the 
history  of  his  grievances  against  the  Italian,  he  felt 
himself  seized  with  a  strange  embarrassment.  It  was 
not  that  he  had  forgotten  that  he  had  right  on  his  side, 


208  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

Inil  lie  (lul  not  exactly  know  how  to  be;^in.  Between 
anger,  and  punch,  and  honoral)le  pride,  he  was  so  vio- 
lently agitated  that  he  remained  for  a  while  with  his 
month  open  before  he  began  his  story.  To  say  that  an 
impertinent  follow  had  refused  his  daughter's  hand  when 
it  was  not  offered  to  him,  seemed  Ijoth  absurd  and  com- 
promising. The  regiment  had  already  spoken  enough 
about  Madame  Bitterlin :  what  was  the  use  of  exposing 
.Emma's  reputation  to  the  scandal-mongers?  Full  of 
this  idea,  he  had  to  fall  back  on  the  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  francs  that  Meo  obstinately  refused  to 
take  off  his  hands.  A  delicate  question  of  such  a  nature 
furnished  of  course  ample  justification  for  his  hostile  in- 
tentions ;  that  was  provocation  enough,  in  the  regiment 
especially,  to  draw  the  sword  against  the  best  man  in 
Christendom,  But  just  as  he  ojjened  his  mouth  to  re- 
late his  doings  at  Baden,  his  eye  fell  on  the  number  104 
stamped  on  the  Li^tenant's  buttons.  You  must  be  a 
soldier  yourself  to  fully  realize  the  mute  eloquence  of  a 
number  borne  by  the  button  of  a  military  jacket.  To 
the  man  who  has  served  with  honor,  the  number  of  the 
regiment  comprises  the  very  essence  of  the  esprit  de  corps, 
the  glory  of  the  flag,  the  victories  won,  the  duties  fulfilled, 
the  hereditary  virtues  which  the  soldiers  hand  down  with 
their  half- worn  uniforms.  The  Captain  called  to  mind 
the  good  lessons  and  the  good  exaijjples  that  he  had  been 
so  louff  giviu":  to  the  One  Hundred  and  Fourth,  and  he 
had  not  now  the  courage  to  tell  two  officers  of  the  regi- 
ment that  he  had  won  a  fortune  at  gambling.  jSIaking 
a  wvy  face,  therefore,  like  a  child  swallowing  a  marble, 
at  last  he  said  ; 

"  -My  friends,  you  are  men  of  honor ;  I  am  a  man  of 


PREPARATIONS.  209 

honor ;  my  adversary  is  also  a  man  of  honor,  although 
he  has  not  that  of  being  a  Frenchman;  and  it  is  a  matter 
that  admits  of  no  arrangement.     Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"'  Perfectly/'  replied  Boucart. 

"  One  moment,"  objected  Captain  Roblot.  "  Are  we 
the  offended  party  ? "  .  . 

''  Yes." 

"  Then  we  have  the  choice  of  weapons." 

"  That  is  self-evident.  I  take  the  regulation  sabre ; 
however,  if  they  insist  on  the  sword,  you  may  yield 
them  the  point." 

"  All  right.     And  when  opens  the  ball  ?  " 

"  The  sooner  the  better." 

"  Forward,  march !    Your  health,  Captain  Bitterlin !  " 

"  Yours,  Captain  Roblot !  Lieutenant  Boucart,  yours ! " 

«  The  old  heroes  of  the  Old  Guard  ! " 

"  The  One  Hundred  and  Fourth  !  " 

"■  Long  live  the  Emperor !  " 

They  finished  their  bowl  of  punch,  and  the  three 
heroes  remained  firmly  convinced  that  M.  Bartolomeo 
Kami's  head  was  to  be  cut  open  for  the  honor  of  Cap- 
tain Bitterlin,  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Fourth  of  the 
Line,  and  of  their  beautiful  land  of  France.  Condillac 
might  have  exhausted  all  his  arsenals  of  logic  and  never 
persuaded  them  to  the  contrary. 

In  the  meantime,  Meo  had  not  remained  quietly  fold- 
ing his  arms.  He  had  paid  a  visit  to  M.  George 
Mediue,  formerly  Captain-reporter  to  the  Council  of 
AVar,  at  present  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the  One  Hun- 
dred and  Fourth.    " 

Monsieur  Medine  is  an  officer  the  like  of  whom,  for- 
tunately, is  by  ua  means  rare  in  the  French  army ;  the 
13*  0 


210  KOUQE    ET    NOIR. 

"warrior  blcndod  Math  the  gentleman,  unitinjj  hook 
knowledge  with  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  world, 
strictly  punctual  in  his  duties,  charming  in  his  social 
relations,  hardened  by  the  rugged  labors  of  the  soldier, 
smoothed  off  by  literature,  and  polished  by  frequenting 
the  society  of  ladies.  He  had  carried  the  knapsack  in 
his  youth,  just  like  the  Bitterlins,  the  Roblots,  and  the 
Boucarts  ;  the  only  way  he  distinguished  himself  from 
these  gentlemen  had  been  by  making  a  better  use  of  his 
leisure  moments. 

He  recognized  ]\Ieo  at  the  first  glance,  for  we  never 
fory-ct  the  face  of  a  man  whose  head  we  have  tried  to 
strike  oif. 

"  You  are  welcome,"  said  he,  cordially  extending  his 
hand.  "  You  make  me  ten  years  younger.  You  reside 
in  Paris,  then?     What  friendly  wind  brings  you  ?" 

The  accuser  and  the  accused  had  a  long  talk  on 
Rome  and  Italy  —  an  inexhaustible  theme.  However, 
Meo  by  no  means  forgot  his  grand  affair.  He  recounted 
in  detail  all  his  relations  Avith  Monsieur  Ritterlin,  his 
love,  his  tour,  his  projects,  his  hopes,  and  the  quarrel  of 
last  evening,  which  might  make  all  things  right  yet,  if 
he  only  knew  how  to  turn  it  to  account. 

M.  Modine  heard  him  to  the  end  with  an  intelligent 
smile  of  attention. 

"  My  dear  enemy,"  said  he  at  last,  "  your  affair  is  one 
of  those  that  can  end  only  in  a  marriage.  I  will  be 
your  second  with  pleasure.     Have  you  another  ?  " 

"No;  I  did  not  wish  to  see  any  one  else  before  con- 
sulting you," 

"  So  much  the  better.  We  shall  take  my  nephew, 
then,  who   is  just  leaving  Saint  djr.      I  know  your 


PREPARATIONS.  2H 

friend  Bittcrlin,  and  from  a  long  date,  too.  He  killed 
one  of  the  best  offieers  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Fourth 
for  a  fiddlestick  ;  it  was  not  reason  enough  to  kick  a  cat. 
His  virtue  is  of  the  outrageous  and  malicious  kind. 
You  have  done  well  to  rub  him  against  the  grain ;  we 
shall  get  some  good  out  of  him  with  a  little  violence. 
I  see  exactly  how  the  land  lies.  Go  back  to  your  rooms  ; 
wait  for  his  seconds  without  flinching,  and  send  me  their 
address  at  seven  o'clock  this  evening  ;  I  take  charge  of 
everything." 

Meo  did  not  see  the  gentlemen  before  six ;  they  were 
perfectly  polite,  except  that  they  raised  their  voices  a 
little. 

"  Gentlemen/'  he  replied,  "  you  're  aware  of  the  of- 
fence for  which  you  demand  satisfaction  ?  " 

"We  know,"  replied  Captain  Roblot,  "that  it  is  a 
matter  admitting  of  no  arrangement." 

"  You  will  have  the  kindness  then,  one  of  you,  to 
wait  at  your  house  until  my  friends  call  to  see  you. 
They  will  have  the  honor  to  do  so  at  eight  o'clock." 

It  was  Captain  lioblot  that  gave  his  address,  for  he 
had  a  room  of  fifty-five  francs  a  month. 

Monsieur  Bitterlin's  friends  experienced  no  slight 
degree  of  astonishment  when  they  saw  their  lieutenant- 
colonel  present  himself  at  eight  o'clock,  followed  by 
his  nephew. 

"  Colonel,"  stammered  Boucart,  "  we  had  no  idea  — 
we  never  thought — certainly  if  we  had  only  known — " 

"  Gentlemen,"  interrupted  M.  Medine,  "  let  us  forget 
our  respective  grades,  if  you  please." 

He  added,  in  a  tone  that  betrayed  the  authority  of  a 
commander : 


212  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

"  There  is  nobody  here  but  four  officers  of  the  One 
Hundred  and  Fourth  met  together  to  settle  an  afl'air  of 
lionor.  Captain  Bitterlin,  one  of  our  brave  comrades, 
lias  been  olfonded  By  the  conduct  of  M.  Narni,  Count  of 
Miranda,  one  of  my  friends." 

Boucart  and  Roblot  saluted  mechanically.  M.  Medine 
continued  : 

"  You  have  done  well  in  taking  the  part  of  one  of 
our  old  officers.  Do  you  know  the  cause  of  the  dis- 
pute?" 

"  Gracious  heaven,  no  !  "  replied  Roblot. 

"  I  can  explain  it  all  in  two  words.  M.  de  Miranda, 
having  somewhat  compromised  the  Captain's  daughter, 
refuses  to  marry  her.  The  Captain  has  sent  you  to 
demand  satisfaction.  M.  de  Miranda  authorizes  us  to 
accept  your  day,  your  hour,  and  your  arms.  Nothing 
can  be  simpler,  you  see ;  the  meeting  is  inevitable." 

"  Unless,  however,"  objected  Boucart,  "  M.  de  Mi- 
randa may  decide  on  marrying  jNlademoiselle  Bitterlin." 

"  I  acknowledge  that  such  a  combination  would  de- 
cidedly be  the  most  satisfactory.  But  as  1  have  hardly 
any  hope  of  making  my  friend  accept  it,  we  can  pass 
on  and  regulate  the  terms  of  the  meeting." 

The  hour  was  decided  to  be  seven  o'clock  next  morn- 
ing; the  ground,  the  entrance  to  the  Bois  de  Vinceiines; 
for  the  weapon,  the  Medincs  accepted  the  regulation 
army  sabre.  They  knew  well  that  it  would  never  leave 
its  scabbard. 

As  soon  as  the  Ca])tain  learned  the  result  of  this 
interview,  his  first  impression  was  one  of  surprise  and 
dissatisfaction.  He  already  saw  his  daughter  compro- 
mised in  the  eyes  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Fourth,  he 


PREPARATIONS.  213 

heard  tlie  officers'  wiv^es  saying  their  worst  regarding  the 
life  and  adventures  of  Emma,  and  he  found  himself 
carried  back,  without  knowing  how,  to  the  most  unhappy- 
days  of  his  marriage.  His  fits  of  rage,  as  he  returned 
home,  almost  deprived  him  of  his  eyesight;  he  even 
thought  once  or  twice  that  everything  was  swimming 
around  him  like  a  top.  What  consoled  his  majestic 
soul  a  little  was  the  hope  of  seeing  Meo  quivering  on 
the  daisies  next  morning,  spitted  like  a  lark. 

"  Dog  of  a  foreigner ! "  he  exclaimed,  rubbing  his 
leathery  hands  together;  "if  you  have  dishonored  the 
father  and  compromised  the  daughter,  it  is  not  in  par- 
adise that  you  shall  boast  of  it !  " 

As  for  Meo,  it  was  joy  that  was  suffocating  him. 
He  left  M.  Mediue's  residence  in  a  state  of  excitement 
absolutely  impossible  to  describe.  He  had  forgotten  to 
take  dinner.  His  happiness  was  now  absolutely  cer- 
tain ;  next  day,  he  had  no  doubt,  was  to  put  him  in 
possession  of  Emma  forever.  As  he  came  down  the 
Fauhoury  St.  Antoine,  he  committed  a  thousand  acts  of 
folly.  Whenever  he  met  a  bedraggled  couple  making 
their  way  to  some  ball  or  other  outside  the  Barrier,  he 
cried  out  to  them,  with  comical  emphasis : 

"  Happy  pair !  Go  where  love  calls  you  !  I  am  not 
jealous.     It  will  soon  be  my  turn  !  " 

Seeing  a  woman  carrying  a  baby,  he  took  it  out  of 
her  arms,  and  raising  it  as  high  as  his  head,  he  asked  her 
how  old  it  was. 

"  Twenty-two  months,"  replied  the  poor  woman, 
rather  startled. 

"  Dear  little  thing  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  kiss  me.  Be- 
fore this  time  three  years  I  shall  have  a  little  fellow  just 


21  i  ROUGE    ET    NOIU. 

like  yon.  What  do  I  say?  Like  you!  .You're 
liorrid!  You 're  dirty  !  My  son  shall  be  beautiful  as 
an  ano-el ! " 

A  little  dog  with  a  tail  like  a  trumpet  happened  to 
run  between  his  legs ;  he  threw  him  a  sou  to  buy  bread 
with.  Three  soldiers,  up  for  fun,  barricaded  his  road ; 
]\Ieo  overwhelmed  them  with  compliments,  invited 
them  all  to  his  wedding,  took  a  most  affectionate  leave 
of  them ;  and  then,  meeting  a  plain  civilian  that  was 
quietly  contemjilating  the  moon,  in  the  exuberance  of 
his  spirits  he  thrashed  him  within  an  inch  of  his  life. 

He  passed  the  rest  of  the  night  dancing  on  his  chairs 
and  tables ;  whereas  the  terrible  Captain,  locked  up  in 
his  own  room,  was  practising  sabre-cuts  before  the  glass, 
and  making  such  desperate  thrusts  and  wicked  lunges 
as  to  shake  the  whole  house. 

Agatha  came  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  wake 
lip  her  young  master,  who,  however,  required  nothing 
of  the  kind. 

"  Come  here,"  he  exclaimed,  on  seeing  her,  "  my  ex- 
cellent old  girl,  angel  of  consolation,  faithful  companion 
in  the  days  of  my  distress,  now  happily  all  vanished 
forever.  Our  miseries  are  over.  You  are  to  remain  in 
our  service ;  that 's  a  matter  of  course.  I  shall  give 
you  no  wages.  Take  what  you  please  out  of  Emma's 
l)urse  and  mine !  " 

"  But,  sir,"  cried  the  poor  bewildered  creature,  "some- 
thing must  have  happened  then  ?  " 

"  What  a  question  to  ask,  over-grown  baby  !  W^hy, 
I  'm  going  to  marry  Emma !  Run  and  tell  her  so,  and 
give  her  this  key,  henceforth  the  key  of  her  apartments. 
Tell  her  all  about  the  glorious  -uews.     Tell  her  that  I 


PREPARATIONS.  215 

love  her,  that  our  happiness  is  secure,  and  that  I  am 
going  to  figlit  her  father  this  morning  with  swords  !  " 

Tliereupon  he  darted  from  the  house  like  a  madman, 
which  in  fact  he  was,  jumped  into  a  cab,  and  told  the 
driver  to  take  him  to  the  Boisde  Vincennes. 

Agatha  really  believed  that  he  had  lost  his  senses. 
She  tried  to  run  after  him,  but  he  was  already  too  far 
off.  As  nature  had  not  formed  her  for  catch insr  car- 
riages  driving  at  full  speed,  slie  soon  clianged  her  course, 
and  made  straight,  panting  and  sobbing,  for  the  house 
in  the  Rue  des  Vosges. 

Emma,  standing  at  her  window,  saw  her  afar  off,  and 
signalled  her  to  come  up.  The  two  friends  tlirew  them- 
selves into  each  other's  arms,  sobbing  and  shedding  tor- 
rents of  tears.  For  a  good  quarter  of  an  hour  they 
sjjoke  both  at  the  same  time,  asking  each  other  ques- 
tions and  never  thinking  to  reply.  Emma  had  been 
living  in  a  niost  fantastical  kind  of  a  world  since  her 
return  from  Baden.  The  strangest  noises  had  disturbed 
her  night's  repose :  now  it  would  be  a  cascade  of  gold 
flowing  over  her  father's  bed ;  last  night  it  was  a  series 
of  hollow  sounds,  occasionally  intermingled  with  the 
clashing  of  steel.  Her  days  had  been  disturbed  by  her 
father's  singular  temper,  which  had  become  altogether 
inexplicable :  at  one  time  merry,  at  another  sad,  now 
speaking  with  the  greatest  kindness  of  that  poor  Narni, 
now  plunged  into  the  gloomiest  and  most  ominous 
silence.  And  Meo  had  never  sent  her  a  single  word ! 
And  the  poor  child  would  not  dare  to  ask  her  father 
about  him,  for  fear  she  should  betray  her  secret  and  ruin 
everything  !  But  all  these  vague  alarms,  all  these  sus- 
picions, all  these  doubts,  vanished  like  the  light  of  a 


216  ROUGE    ET    NOm. 

lamp  before  a  house  on  fire,  as  soon  as  Ag;atha  Had  pro- 
nounced the  word  "  fidit."  A  sinsrle  bound  brought 
Emma  before  her  father's  arm-rack;  a  single  glance 
told  her  that  his  sabre  was  missing. 

As  soon  as  the  Lady  Ximena  in  the  play  hears  that 
her  father  and  her  lover  are  at  blows,  she  turns  her  back 
on  the  Infanta  and  runs  to  part  the  combatants.  Em- 
ma had  not  this  resource.  She  could  not  tell  where  in 
the  wide  world  the  Captain  and  Meo  were  to  meet.  All 
that  the  poor  little  thing  understood,  was  that  she  was 
herself  the  cause  of  the  terrible  misfortune  impending. 
A  sword-cut  should  make  her  a  widow  or  an  orphan, 
and  in  cither  event  it  was  all  over  with  her  in  this  world. 
Meo's  murderer  could  never  be  her  father ;  her  father's 
murderer  should  never  be  her  husband.  She  struggled 
desperately  against  admitting  the  certainty  of  her 
misery,  but  she  Saw  no  other  possible  issue.  Agatha 
endeavored  to  calm  her,  though  she  could  not  calm 
herself. 

"  Don't  make  yourself  so  miserable,"  said  she ; 
"  perhaps  it  will  all  end  in  nothing.  Most  likely  the 
police  will  arrest  them;  a  sword  may  break  —  your 
father  is  suelr  a  terrible  slaslier,  you  know.  But  oh, 
my  poor  child,  I  don't  know  what  I  'm  saying  !  I  'm 
only  a  poor  stupid  creature,  I  know,  but  never,  never 
did  I  regret  it  so  much  before !  " 

Then  she  would  begin  talking  of  going  off  and  inform- 
ing the  city  authorities ;  next  moment  a  notion  would 
seize  her  of  running  to  church  and  lighting  a  taper  in 
honor  of  St.  Martin,  the  patron  of  soldiers.  This  scene 
of  disorder  and  mortal  anxiety  had  lasted  two  hours, 
when  all  at  once  the  door  opened. 


PREPARATIONS.  217 

Captain  Bitterliu  stood  at  the  entrance ;  his  red  face 
was  ahuost  violet.  He  flung  his  sabre  on  the  open 
piano,  and  the  ivory  keys  gave  forth  a  wailing  sound. 
The  two  women  detected  in  the  discord  the  dying  moan 
of  an  entire  army.  Agatha  threw  herself  on  her  knees, 
and  with  her  face  to  the  earth  began  to  mutter  a  Be 
Profundis  for  the  benefit  of  the  departed  soul.  Emma 
started  up  and  glided  off  to  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
with  a  gesture  of  horror  and  loatliing.  She  could 
already  see  her  father's  hand  and  clothes  sprinkled  with 
Meo's  blood. 

"  Good  morning,  Agatha,"  said  the  Captain.  "  I 
have  n't  seen  you  for  an  age,  my  child.  Don't  be  afraid, 
I  'm  not  going  to  eat  you.  Ever  so  many  things  have 
taken  place.  Emma,  come  over  here  and  sit  on  my  knees." 

The  victim  trembled  as  she  approached.  Her  father 
took  her  by  the  hand  and  drew  her  towards  him. 

"Now  listen  to  me,"  said  he,  "and  no  objections! 
This  day  two  weeks  you  marry  Monsieur  Narni."- 
19 


218  EOUQE    ET    NOIR. 

CHAPTER   XV. 

BATTLE ! 

HERE  is  the  comedy  that  had  been  phiyed  that 
mornhig  in  the  Bois  de  Vincennes. 

At  seven  o'clock  precisely,  the  principals  and  the 
seconds  appeared  on  the  ground  with  military  exactness. 
The  four  officers  were  dressed  as  civilians,  to  conceal  the 
inequality  of  their  grades ;  this  had  been  done  at  Mon- 
sieur Medine's  request.  Salutations  were  exchanged  on 
both  sides  w'ith  all  the  ceremony  usual  on  such  occasions. 
The  seconds  measured  the  weapons ;  the  Captain  and 
Meo  undressed  to  their  shirt  and  pantaloons.  But  just 
as  they  were  preparing  to  cross  blades,  M.  Medine,  cane 
in  hand,  advanced  towards  his  champion,  saying  : 

"  Count,  since  it  is  you  who  are  the  aggressor,  I  think 
it  is  only  the  duty  of  the  seconds  to  submit  a  last  obser- 
vation to  your  notice  before  proceeding  to  extremities. 
There  is  always  plenty  of  time  for  cutting  each  other's 
throats,  and  a  quarter  of  an  hour  hence  our  suggestions 
might  come  a  little  too  late.  The  other  gentlemen  of 
course  are  of  my  opinion  ?  " 

"  Why  not.  Colonel  ?     Certainly,"  said  Boucart. 

"  The  very  thing*  I  was  thinking  of,"  added  Roblot. 

M.  Mcdine  continued  :  • 

"I  should  be  scrupulous  about  interru))ting  you  by 
any  objection  of  mine,  if  I  did  not  stand  in  the  pres- 
ence of  two  men  of  acknowledged  bravery.  Cai)tain 
Bitterlin  has  satisfied  his  regiment  on  that  point.  As 
to  you,  Count,  I  have  had  the  honor  to  meet  you  at  a 


battle!  219 

place  where  the  work  was  decidedly  hot,  and  I  can 
certify  that  you  were  not  sparing  of  your  life." 

The  father-in-law  and  the  son-in-law  gave  a  slight 
salute  to  the  speaker,  and  leaned  on  their  sabres  to 
hear  the  end  of  his  discourse.  He  resumed,  addressing 
Meo : 

"  Count,  I  don't  know  what  your  reasons  are  for 
refusing  the  hand  of  a  young  lady  whom  you  have 
innocently  compromised.  But  whatever  may  be  your 
secret,  I  respect  it." 

"  Sir,"  interrupted  Meo,  "  I  have  no  secret  to  keep. 
Whatever  may  come  of  this  meeting,  the  issue  of  which 
is  still  quite  uncertain,  I  think  it  my  duty  to  declare 
formally,  in  presence  of  the  men  of  honor  that  surround 
me,  that  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin's  reputation  stands 
beyond  all  question,  as  likewise  the  loyalty  of  Ker 
father  and  the  memory  of  her  mother.  If  I  have 
resisted  the  very  legitimate  desire  of  becoming  her 
husband,  the  only  motive  for  my  refusal  lay  in  the  im- 
perious and  domineering  temper  of  the  Captain  here 
present.  I  felt  that  I  should  utterly  renounce  every- 
thing like  a  free  will  of  my  own,  the  moment  I  set  foot 
in  the  family  of  a  man  so  absolute  and  overbearing." 

A  gleam  of  stealthy  satisfaction  twinkled  in  the  Cap- 
tain's little  eyes. 

"  As  for  the  rest,"  added  Meo,  quickly,  "  the  gentle- 
man has  never  offered  me  his  daughter,  and  I  deny  that 
she  has  been  compromised  by  my  fault." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  in  his  bitterest 
voice.  "  We  are  not  here  to  discuss  such  matters ;  but 
your  friend  M.  Le  Roy  himself  has  acknowledged  to 
me  that  you  compromised  my  daughter." 


220  IIOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

'Sloo  ])niiso(l,  as  if  searching  for  a  reply.  M.  .Medine 
took  advantage  of  his  silence  by  saying : 

"  It  is  none  of  our  business,  Count,  to  recur  to  what 
is  past,  and  I  take  much  pleasure  in  believing  that  you 
have  done  nothing  voluntarily  to  cast  the  slightest 
shadow  on  the  young  lady's  reputation.  But  there  are 
two  things  of  which  I  must  not  allow  you  to  remain 
in  ignorance.  Oi>e  is,  that,  in  consequence  of  the  armed 
discussion  we  hold  here  to-day.  Mademoiselle  Bitterlin 
remains  hereafter  compromised  to  such  a  degree  that 
she  can  never  marry  any  one  but  you.  The  other  is, 
that,  after  a  duel,  if  unfortunately  you  insist  on  going 
so  far,  the  poor  child  would  be  deprived  of  even  the 
resource  of  becoming  your  wife,  and  thus  be  forever 
condemned  to  a  life  of  perpetual  celibacy." 

"  It  is  clear,"  cried  Roblot. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  added  Boucart. 

"  Well,"  cried  the  Captain,  "she  will  not  die  of  it! 
]\Iany  another  girl  has  become  an  old  maid.  But  as 
for  you,  sir  —  " 

"  As  for  me,  sir,  I  shall  never  load  my  conscience 
with  such  a  source  of  remorse.  In  the  presence  of 
these  gentlemen,  I  accept  your  daughter's  hand." 

Such  a  startling  turn  of  affairs  as  this,  was  what  the 
Captain  had  of  all  things  in  the  world  the  least  expect- 
ed, and  perhaps  he  would  have  received  the  Italian's ' 
consent  with  a  very  bad  grace,  had  not  the  four  officers 
immediately  thrown  themselves  on  him  all  together, 
congratulating  him  so  heartily  as  almost  to  deprive  him 
of  his  senses.  The  most  noisy,  the  most  eager,  the 
most  triumphant  of  all  were  Boucart  and  Roblot, 
though  they  were  no  mure  in  the  secret  than  the  man 
in  the  moon. 


battle!  221 

To  prevent  the  enemy  from  having  time  to  make  a 
reconnoissance,  Meo  contrived  a  little  stratagem.  He 
snpposed  obstacles,  and  demanded  a  delay  of  three 
months.  Boucart  and  Roblot  exclaimed  loudly  against 
such  a  thins:,  the  Medines  labored  hard  to  make  him 
listen  to  reason,  and  the  Captain,  carried  along  by  the 
current,  cried  out : 

"  Debts  of  honor  should  never  be  deferred  !  I  insist 
that  you  atone  for  your  fault  within  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours." 

New  floods  of  oratory  were  now  required  to  demon- 
strate to  the  Captain  that  marriages  cannot  be  got  up  as 
quickly  as  victories.  After  a  contest  of  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  during  which  Meo  showed  himself  almost  inexo- 
rable, the  wedding  was  deferred  till  that  day  two  weeks. 

"  But  let  us  understand  each  other  perfectly,"  said 
the  father-in-law.  "  These  gentlemen  shall  do  us  the 
honor  of  being  present  on  the  occasion.  And  if  this 
day  two  weeks  your  papers  are  not  all  ready  and  your 
wedding-clothes  finished,  you  and  I  must  come  to  a 
final  settlement,  by  the  holy  lightning  !  " 

Meo  bowed  himself  down  like  a  reed  before  the 
blast. 

"  From  now  till  then,"  continued  the  Captain,  "  I  in- 
sist that  you  come  every  day  to  pay  your  resjjects  to  my 
daughter,  in  order  to  dispose  her  to  the  ceremony." 

"  Every  day !  "  exclaimed  Meo,  in  terrible  consterna- 
tion. 

"  Every  day.  And  if  you  are  absent  a  single  time, 
I  '11  undertake  to  kick  you  back  all  the  way  to  your  own 
door.  Give  me  your  hand  !  Good  !  A  settled  matter. 
Now  step  aside  here  three  paces  until   I  whisper  you 

"'     r.»  ■■ 


222  EOUGE    ET    N(nR. 

soinctliiiig.  I  have  all  your  money  in  the  pocket  of  my 
overcoat.     Do  me  the  favor  to  take  it  away." 

But  on  this  point  Mco  was  really  immovable.  He 
declared  that  he  would  never  touch  those  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  francs,  until  the  moment  the  wedding 
party  were  all  leaving  the  Mayor's  office. 

They  separated  without  taking  breakfast  together,  as 
Roblot  and  young  Medine  were  on  duty.  A  restaurant- 
keeper  in  the  neighborhood,  wlio,  seeing  the  crowd,  had 
■wrung  a  pair  of  chickens'  necks  off,  had  therefore  all 
his  trouble  for  nothin*!;. 

For  the  next  two  weeks  the  Captain  remained  like 
a  tightly-strung  bow;  he  actually  vibrated.  The  joy 
of  victory  and  the  compliments  of  his  seconds  stunned 
him  till  he  reached  the  middle  of  the  Faubourg  St.  An- 
toine,  where  the  other  gentlemen  took  leave  of  him 
before  the  barrack -gate.  But  with  their  departure  all 
his  clear  ideas  seemed  to  have  departed  too,  and  left  .his 
head  completely  void.  Then  a  thousand  contradictory 
and  clashing  ideas  began  to  defile  before  him  as  if  on 
drill,  only  they  did  not  give  him  time  to  get  a  good 
l(wk  at  a  single  one  of  them  in  the  face  so  as  to  be  able 
to  meditate  upon  it. 

"  Come  now,"  says  he,  "  there 's  daughter  married, 
though  may  old  Satan  seize  me  if  I  have  the  remotest 
idea  how  it  has  been  brought  about.  In  all  respects, 
however,  I  have  borne  myself  well :  for  me  indeed  it  is 
a  memorable  day.  The  fellows  in  the  regiment  will 
understand  that  the  aid  colt  has  a  good  tooth  still  left. 
Emma,  of  course,  will  cry  to  heaven  and  earth  :  but  little 
I  care  for  her  cries.  If  that  old  lover  of  hers  is  still 
trotting  around  in  her  head,  she  had  better  open  the  gate 


battle!  223 

and  put  him  out.  So  this  young  fellow  is  a  nobleman ; 
he  never  told  me  so.  Well,  I  get  rid  of  that  accursed 
money.  They  will  be  rich,  and  I  need  not  encroach  ou 
my  income.  That  is  rather  better  than  laying  a  sim- 
pleton's head  oi)en.  Madame  Countess  Narni,  nee  Bit- 
terlin.  I  like  better  Madame  Countess  Bitterlin  de 
Narni ;  it  sounds  more  honorably  for  our  family. 
What  has  prevented  myself  from  being  a  Count  of  the 
Empire?  My  chance  would  n't  turn  up,  that 's  all.  I 
shall  do  what  I  like  with  this  poor  fellow :  and  well  he 
knows  it.  What  a  life  I  led  him  during  that  tour ! 
My  mind  is  of  a  superior  order  to  his  —  that  is  it. 
But  suppose  he  runs  off  to  Italy  before  the  wedding ! 
I  will  keep  my  eye  on  him,  for  I  know  he  don't  care  a 
straw  for  my  daughter.  .  Death  and  fury  !  I  shall  find 
him  were  he  in  the  deepest,  darkest,  hottest  crevice  of 
Mount  Vesuvius.  Ha !  my  old  sabre,  so  we  've  done 
nothing  this  morning,  after  all.  I  had  just  remembered 
such  a  famous  thrust  last  night.  One !  Two !  Pif ! 
You  can  boast  of  belonging  to  a  jolly  ugly  customer. 
Come  to  breakfast,  I  tell  you  they  '11  be  talking  about 
me  this  morning  at  the  captains'  mess.  Boys  of  my 
mettle  are  rather  scarce  in  the  One  Hundred  and 
Fourth.     Etc.,  etc.,  etc." 

Agatha's  presence  in  his  house  excited  neither  his 
surprise  nor  his  curiosity  :  he  had  too  many  other  fishes 
to  fry.  In  four  words  he  showed  his  daughter  all  the 
advantages  of  the  proposed  union.  Emma  turned  pale 
and  red  by  turns,  feared  some  snare,  and  at  last  opened 
her  mouth  only  to  express  her  submission  in  a  few 
commonplace  terms.  He  left  her  almost  immediately, 
and  started  for  Mco's  residence.     He  soon  reappeared, 


221  ROUGE    ET    NOIll. 

hauling  hini  along,  <7cnrrarme  fashion.  "  Here  is  your 
future  husband,"  he  exclaimed,  shoving  him  into  the 
jjarlor.  "You  know  her,  she  knows  you.  Now,  if 
you're  an  honorable  man,  go  to  work  and  make  love  to 
her,  and  be  alive  about  it." 

The  first  glance  exchanged  between  the  two  lovers- was 
an  abridged  poem ;  it  would  take  whole  volumes  to 
describe  what  it  expressed.  But  our  swain,  taught  by 
dear  experience,  was  very  careful  to  let  none  of  his  joy 
be  witnessed  by  the  Captain.  He  waited  for  a  more 
favorable  moment  to  explain  to  his  mistress  the  secret 
of  so  unexpected  a  piece  of  good  fortune.  The  cunning 
little  thing,  on  her  side,  understood  the  matter  at  a 
glance,  and  likewise  commenced  to  play  her  part  in  the 
little  game. 

Like  a  pig  driven  to  market,  the  Captain  made  a  step 
forward  for  every  one  that  they  i)ulled  him  back. 
Emma  and  Meo  manoeuvred  so  skilfully  that  at  the 
end  of  the  first  interview  JNI.  Bitterlin  forced  them  to 
exchange  a  cold  and  formal  embrace.  "  Nothing  can 
resist  me  !  "  he  exclaimed,  rubbing  his  hands. 

If  Meo  could  have  followed  his  heart's  dearest  wishes, 
he  would  have  passed  every  moment  of  his  life  in  the 
Rue  des  Vosges.  But  he  practised  such  ^admirable  self- 
denial,  that  the  Captain  scolded  him  for  the  shortness 
of  his  visits.  "  This  is  not  what  you  have  promised, 
sir,"  growled  out  occasionally  this  terrible  father-in-law. 
"  You  get  here  late,  and  you  start  off  as  if  the  house 
was  on  fire.  That 's  not  the  way  to  act;  what  the  devil ! 
Are  you  making  a  fool  of  me  ?  " 

His  daughter,  too,  he  found  fault  with  for  her  cold- 
ness.    "Miss  Namby  Pamby,"    he   would  say,    "you 


battle!  225 

just  take  the  mau  I  give  you,  or  I  '11  know  the  reason 
why.  I  understand  what  makes  you  so  starched  up. 
There's  an  old  hankering  still  alive;  but  if  ever  you 
think  of  indulging  in  such  forbidden  thoughts,  it  won't 
be  your  demure  husband  that  shall  thi-ash  you,  but  my 
own  two  hands." 

The  two  children  played  their  part  so  well  that  the 
Captain  became  magnificent  in  his  impatience.  Every 
day  he  kept  trotting  backward  and  forward,  from  the 
Mayor's  office  to  the  church,  and  from  the  tailor  to  the 
dressmaker,  to  hasten  the  preparations  and  to  remove 
the  obstructions.  Every  night  he  jumped  up  with  a 
start  and  made  off  for  the  Rue  St.  Catherine  to  make 
sure  that  his  son-in-law  had  not  stolen  away.  He  had 
never  shown  half  so  much  anxiety  about  his  own  mar- 
riage. He  was  more  than  a  bridegroom,  more  than  an 
anxious  parent ;  you  would  have  called  him  a  comman- 
der-in-chief on  the  eve  of  a  decisive  battle. 

At  last  the  great  day  came.  It  was  not,  perhaps, 
either  Emma  or  Meo  that  had  most  longed  for  it.  Very 
few  were  admitted  to  contemplate  the  Captain  in  his 
glory ;  the  four  seconds  of  the  duel,  the  family  physi- 
cian, M.  Arthur  Le  Roy,  and  M.  Silivergo  composed  the 
Mdiole  party.  Even  Silivergo  had  been  invited  merely 
by  chance.  Meo  had  met  him  in  the  street  and  told 
him  of  his  good  fortune.  The  old  printer  immediately 
invited  himself  to  the  wedding,  saying :  "  On  such  a 
great  occasion  I  must  of  course  be  present,  both  as 
being  your  old  master  and  your  future  relation.  In  a 
month  I  am  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Aurelia,  your 
cousin." 

It  was  the  Captain  that  packed  the  guests  into  the 

P 


226  EOUOE    ET    NOIR. 

earriagps ;  it  was  lie  who  reviewed  them  all  at  tlie  door 
of  the  Mayor's  ofiice.  He  strutted  into  the  Municl])ality 
Chamber  like  Alexander  entering  Babylon.  When  the 
magistrate  asked  ]\leo  the  usual  question,  "  Do  you  con- 
sent to  take  for  your  wife  Jeanne  Frances  Emma  Bit- 
terlin  ? "  the  Captain  was  heard  muttering,  "  Does  he 
consent?  I  should  like  to  catch  him  refusing!  he'd 
soon  have  me  to  deal  with !  " 

The  pen  used  for  writing  the  signatures  in  the  Regis- 
ter was  a  tine  large  goose-quill,  decked  with  all  its 
filaments,  and  shaped  like  a  sabre-blade.  The  Captain 
presented  it  terribly  at  his  son-in-law,  with  an  imperious 
gesture,  which  resembled  a  fencing-thrust:  "One,  two, 
three  !  "  Meo  smiled,  signed,  and  fell  back  half  fainting 
into  the  nearest  chair.     He  was  happy ! 

Though  they  still  had  to  go  to  the  church,  the  guests 
now  began  congratulating  the  Captain  on  his  success, 
for  with  men  the  civil  part  of  the  marriage  is  the  whole 
of  it.-  The  striking  simj)licity  of  this  decisive  act  has 
often  set  the  tears  running  down  a  gray  moustache, 
whereas  the  emotion  of  women  breaks  forth  only  at  the 
altar  and  the  pealing  of  the  organ.  The  Captain  replied 
to  ISI.  Le  Roy's  compliment :  "  J\Iy  dear  sir,  nobody 
can  ever  know  all  the  trouble  this  atfair  has  given  me. 
I  have  upheaved  mountains !  But  honor  spoke ;  I 
willed,  I  conquered  ;  this  is  my  battle  of  Austerlitz. 
However,  excuse  me,  it  is  not  all  over  yet;  I  have  to 
goad  up  these  skulkers  with  my  sword-2)oiut." 

It  was  with  these  sentiments  that  he  led  his  army  to 
the  parish  church. 

He  listened  to  the  priest's  short  discourse  with  an 
active,  I  had  almost  said  a  violent,  attention.     Every 


battle!  227 

word  uttered  on  the  duties  of  married  people,  he  con- 
firmed and  ratified  by  an  energetic  nod  intended  for  the 
benefit  of  Monsieur  Narni. 

On  quitting  the  church,  he  took  hira  aside  and  whis- 
pered :  "  Now,  sir,  if  you  were  infamous  enough  to 
betray  my  daugliter,  I  would  kill  you,  sir,  and  no 
longer  on  the  field  of  honor,  but  anywhere,  and  no 
matter  how,  as  I  should  kill  a  dog ! " 

"And  you  would  do  just  right!"  replied  the  son- 
in-law. 

A  grand  entertainment,  of  Agatha's  cooking,  awaited 
them  in  the  Rue  des  Vosges.  It  was  what  plain  people 
call  a  dejeuner-dinatoire,  for  though  the  guests  took 
their  seats  towards  noon,  they  did  not  rise  from  the 
table  till  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  Meo  enjoyed,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  without  constraint,  the  happiness 
of  looking  at  Emma.  In  fact,  only  one  thing  prevented 
his  felicity  from  being  complete,  and  that  was  the  hun- 
dred and  twenty  thousand  francs,  which  the  Captain  had 
slipped  into  his  coat-tail  pockets  immediately  after  the 
nuptial  mass.  Such  a  heavy  load,  flapping  about, 
incommoded  him  considerably. 

The  feats  performed  by  Messrs.  Boucart  and  Roblot, 
in  the  eating  department,  were  actually  heroic  ;  Roland's 
famous  sword  never  wrought  such  marvels  of  destruction. 

At  the  dessert,  M.  Silivergo,  a  relation  of  the  Narnis 
by  the  female  side,  asked  permission  to  declaim  a  sonnet 
of  his  own  composition.  The  splendid  piece  of  poetry 
was  received  with  all  the  more  violent  applause  as 
nobody  understood  the  first  word  of  it.  This  is  the  way 
that  French  vanity  renders  foreign  literature  so  success- 
ful in  France. 


228  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

M.  Arthur  Le  Roy,  in  cliarge  of  the  drinking  depart- 
ment, proposed  the  following  toasts: 

"  To  Private  Bitterlin  !  " 

"To  Corporal  Bltterlin!" 

"  To  Sergeant  Bitterlin  !  " 

"  To  Sub-Lieutenant  Bitterlin  !  " 

"  To  Lieutenant  Bitterlin  !  " 

"  To  Captain  Bitterlin,  Chevalier  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor !  " 

The  Captain,  who  had  religiously  emptied  his  glass 
at  every  toast,  at  last  began  to  soften  a  little.  But  Le 
Roy,  who  intended  to  put  him  under  the  table,  sworo 
that  the  first  Captain  of  our  times  should  never  stand 
still  on  the  road  to  glory.  He  put  him  once  more  under 
the  colors,  and  drank  his  health  successively  as  Major^ 
Colonel,  General,  and  even  the  Marshal  Duke  de  Bit- 
terlin !  The  poor  man  defended  himself  as  well  as  he 
could  from  such  an  avalanche  of  honors,  at  the  same 
time  drinking  like  a  drum-major.  Boucart  and  Roblot 
came  over  every  now  and  then  to  touch  glasses  with 
him,  and  to  congratulate  him  on  his  rajiid  advancement, 
of  which  they  now  began  no  longer  to  have  any  doubt 
whatever. 

They  would  have  drowned  him  in  wine,  like  Clar- 
ence, only  for  the  Doctor's  friendly  interference.  That 
excellent  man  dreaded  to  see  such  a  strong,  intensely 
animal  nature  led  into  excess.  He  asked  the  Captain 
in  confidence  if  he  had  ever  thought  of  getting  himself 
bled.  The  old  hero  replied,  with  an  inimitable  tone : 
"  Never !  sir ;  I  shed  my  blood  only  in  the  presence  of 
the  enemy." 

He  was  actually  drunk,  and  yet  M.  Mediue^  a  cool 


battle!  229 

spectator,  was  compelled  to  admire  his  solidity.  He 
leaned  over  towards  his  uephew  aud  whispered  to  him : 
"  Just  look  at  that  old  ironsides :  he  is  one  of  the  last 
specimens  of  the  Grand  Army.  He  represents  a  race 
that  perished  between  Moscow  and  Waterloo.  Such 
creatures  are  no  longer  born  ;  the  mould  seems  to  have 
been  lost.  He  is  sixty  years  old,  and  he  has  just  drank 
enough  for  twenty-four  men.  How  upright  he  sits  on 
his  chair !  How  firm  is  his  glance  of  command  !  That 
voice  would  be  heard  half  a  leao-ue  oif  on  a  field  of 
battle.  And  remember,  he  is  only  one  of  the  dried 
fruits  of  his  time.  Judging  from  him,  what  must  the 
others  have  been !  I  am  certain  that,  at  this  very  mo- 
ment, through  the  vapors  that  are  clouding  his  brain,  there 
is  rising  within  him  an  idea  fixed,  solid,  immovable;  it 
is  evident  in  every  one  of  his  movements,  it  is  seen  in 
every  glance  that  he  casts  at  his  son-in-law.  This 
superannuated  soldier  has  still  the  instinct  of  ruling ; 
and  he  is  congratulating  himself  on  having  forced  us  all 
into  a  marriage,  which  we  have  actually  accomplished 
in  spite  of  him.  Should  he  ever  learn  that  the  Count, 
his  daughter,  everybody,  has  been  hoaxing  him,  he  would 
burst  like  a  shell." 

"  Hsh  !  "  said  the  sub-lieutenant,  "  he  is  speaking  to 
you." 

"  Colonel !  "  cried  Bitterlin,  "  vou  shall  tell  the  One 
Hundred  and  Fourth  that  I  am  always  square  at  my 
post,  and  that  whenever  I  have  once  taken  a  thing  into 
my  head,  every  difficulty  yields  to  me  like  fate.  Long- 
life  to  me !  Thunder  and  lightning !  and  long  life  to 
you  too ! " 

The  heat  and  the  smoke  were  now  becoming  intoler- 
20 


230  EOUGE    ET    NOIR. 

able,  in  spite  of  the  open  windows.     Besides,  the  bride 
and  bridegroom  began  to  look  tired. 

Like  an  old  steel-spring,  which  though  rusty  has  not 
lost  a  particle  of  its  strength,  the  Captain  rose  to  take 
leave  of  his  guests.  He  embraced  them  all  at  the  door, 
and  squeezed  their  hands  until  they  thought  it  was  a 
vice  had  hold  of  them. 

Left  alone  with  his  daughter  and  son-in-law,  he  cried 
out  in  his  strongest  voice :  "  Change  of  garrison  !  File 
right!  Forward,  march!  Wait  till  I  find  ray  belt. 
The  company  never  marches  without  its  Captain  !  " 

He  led  them  himself,  on  foot,  to  the  Rue  St.  Catherine. 
It  was  there  that  stout  Agatha  had  prepared  their  nest, 
until  such  time  as  Meo  could  find  another.  He  gave 
them  military  benediction  at  the  door,  and  his  last  order 
to  his  son-in-law  was  the  following : 

"Sir,  my  daughter  is  now  your  wife;  I  command  you 
to  make  her  a  good  husband  !  " 

With  these  words  he  turned  away,  and,  as  long  as  the 
young  couple  waited  at  their  door,  they  heard  the  silent 
streets  re-echoing  with  the  majestic  step  of  a  proud  and 
triumphant  Marshal  of  France. 


POSTSCRIPT.  231 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

To  3Io7isicur  Jules  Gireaud. 

PERMIT  me,  sir,  to  dedicate  this  §tory  to  you.  It 
was  while  I  was  writing  it  that  I  learned  to  love 
your  charming  and  solid  qualities.  How  happy  we 
should  feel  if,  during  a  lifetime  dedicated  to  labor,  we 
could  ornament  every  new  work  with  the  name  of  a 
new  friend ! 

But  I  must  open  the  volume  once  more  to  tell  you 
some  bad  news;  I  have  only  just  heard  it  myself.  I 
was  far  indeed  from  expecting  anything  of  the  kind, 
and  it  has  thrown  me,  as  you  see,  quite  into  a  state  of 
consternation.  How  feeble  a  thing  is  man  !  The  most 
robust  health,  the  solidest  and  soundest  body,  the 
strongest  and  most  energetic  mind,  may  all  vanish  in  a 
moment  like  a  shadow,  and  from  the  most  frivolous  of 
causes.  Poor  Captain  !  at  sixty  he  was  really  younger 
than  we  who  arc  only  thirty.  Everybody  that  knew 
him,  except  perhaps  his  physician,  would  have  advised 
him  to  buy  an  annuity.  He  was  built  to  last  a  century, 
and  he  always  flattered  himself  with  the  complacent 
hope  of  burying  both  his  daughter  and  his  son-in-law. 

All  the  powers  of  Europe  had  fired  their  cannons  at 
him  without  success,  and  he  was  happy  and  proud  of 
having  never  been  killed.  For  his  part,  he  had  killed 
a  good  many  foreigners  in  battle,  a  few  friends  on  the 
field  of  honor,  and  his  wife  in  his  own  house.  He  had 
sometimes  received  wounds,  but  they  had  never  done 


232  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

him  any  harm.  Nothing  couUl  equal  the  frank  and 
cordial  gayety  with  which  he  blotted  out  of  the  mili- 
tary ahnanac  the  names  of  such  milk-sops  as  had  let 
themselves  die. 

He  had  his  faults,  to  be  sure,  the  worst  that  could 
be  selected  out  of  a  bad  lot;  but  this  only  renders  his 
sudden  death  the  more  lamentable,  since  it  left  him  no 
time  to  correct  them.  I  was  in  hopes  that  he  might 
have  lived  Ions:  enouo;h  to  become  an  excellent  man.  I 
j^romised  myself  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  act  the 
part  of  a  good,  kind  old  grandfather  as  soon  as  ever  he 
had  a  grandson  big  enough  to  whip  till  the  blood  came. 
But,  poor  dear  Captain,  all  that  is  over  now.  Never 
again  shall  he  torture  mortal.  The  tears  that  his  chil- 
dren shed  at  his  death  are  the  last  he  shall  ever  be  the 
cause  of  in  this  weary  world. 

Is  it  too  much  to  expect  that  some  kind  fate  may 
shut  him  up  forever  in  the  other  world  in  the  same  com- 
partment with  JSIadamc  Bitterliu?  For  my  part,  my  dear 
Captain,  I  should  hardly  pity  you  any  longer,  if  I  were 
once  sure  that  your  cross-grained,  acrimonious  old  soul 
had  only  secured  some  gentle  unresisting  victim  which 
you  could  pass  the  long  hours  of  eternity  in  torturing! 

His  daughter  had  been  two  weeks  married.  Emma 
and  Meo,  perfectly  happy,  still  contrived  to  keep  their 
felicity  out  of  his  sight,  for  they  knew  by  experience 
liow  much  another's  happiness  irritated  him. 

The  Rouge  et  Noir  money  had  already  redeemed 
many  things :  the  estate,  the  title,  and  the  portraits  of 
the  Mirandas.  The  Count's  fine  property,  when  wrested 
from  the  clutches  of  the  rascal  that  had  seized  it,  and 
rented  out  to  some  good  honest  farmers,  promised  him 


POSTSCRIPT.  233 

a  sure  annual  income  of  ten  to  twelve  thousand  francs. 
The  faithful  Marsoni  had  made  business  matters  all 
right  and  played  the  part  of  a  true  friend.  '  He  even 
insisted  on  sending  Meo  money,  the  moment  he  was 
perfectly  certain  that  Meo  no  longer  wanted  it. 

The  young  Countess  grew  more  beautiful  every  day, 
under  the  honey-moon's  genial  rays.  Female  beauty  is 
a  delicate  plant :  it  grows  almost  anywhere,  but  it  comes 
to  perfection  only  when  properly  trained  and  trimmed 
up  around  the  protecting  form  of  a  husband.  Meo  was 
beffinnino;  to  assume  the  steadiness  and  wisdom  of  the 
father  of  a  family.  Happiness,  which  makes  a  fool  out 
of  a  philosopher  (see  Michelet's  last  work),  sometimes 
makes  a  philosopher  out  of  a  fool.  This  extravagant 
fellow  was  beginning  to  learn  how  to  do  a  sum  or  two  in 
arithmetic:  he  deprived  himself  of  his  most  essential  gold 
chains  and  of  his  most  indispensable  shirt-pins  in  order 
to  make  his  wife  a  present  of  a  real  Cashmere  shawl. 
His  single  extra-conjugal  expense  was  the  purchase  of 
one  of  those  bracelets,  massive,  simple,  and  magnificent, 
that  are  made  only  at  Hancock'sj  London.  He  had  the 
motto  "  /  remember  "  written  on  the  solid  gold  in  letters 
formed  of  small  brilliants.  This  was  his  wedding 
present  for  Mademoiselle  Aurelia.  M.  Silivergo  con- 
sidered it  a  gift  of  very  good  taste :  Emma  never  heard 
a  word  about-  it.  So  of  course  everybody  was  per- 
fectly happy ! 

Agatha,  that  most  indefatigable  creature,  passed  her 
time  between  the  Captain's  house  and  the  nest  of  the 
young  couple.  Her  return  to  the  Rue  des  Vosges  turned 
but,  however,  to  be  a  great  misfortune  to  M.  Bitterlin. 
She  was  not  wicked,  as  you  already  know  very  well,  but 
20* 


234  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

she  was  cruelly  stupid:  that  is  the  reason  why  she  killed 
her  master  without  meaning  the  least  mischief.  Ah  ! 
Agatha,  I' have  had  my  misgivings  all  along  that  your 
stupidity  was  to  bring  some  infliction  on  the  family. 
Agatha,  where  on  earth  was  your  head  ?  Oh  !  Agatha, 
what  have  you  done  ? 

One  morning,  as  she  was  dusting  the  parlor,  the 
Captain,  tired  of  being  alone,  observe<l  to  her,  as  he  was 
chewing  his  cigar: 

"Well,  for  the  pious  and  religious  woman  you  pre- 
tend to  be,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  you  acted  in  a 
very  strange  way." 

^'I,  sir?"  she  replied,  flinging  the  duster  under  her 
arm. 

*•  Yes,  you.  Perhaps  you  were  not  your  mistress's 
go-between  with  her  first  lover?  Was  it  for  anything 
else  that  I  turned  you  out  of  the  house  ?  " 

"What  first  lover?" 

"  The  one  whose  name  I  have  never  been  able  to  get 
out  of  you." 

"  Oh !  you  know  it  well  enough  now,  master,  being 
as  it  was  Monsieur  Narni." 

"  Narni ! !  " 

"Do  you  think  that  Mademoiselle  could  have  fallen 
in  love  with  two  men?  No,  indeed,  master;  it  has 
been  only  one  all  along,  and  that  one  always  the  same. 
But  had  n't  the  poor  gentleman  his  own  time  of  it,  trying 
to  make  you  swallow  the  pill !  " 

The  Captain  thought  more  in  one  minute  now  than 
he  had  ever  done  in  all  his  life.  But  such  thinking 
was  not  good  for  him :  the  blood  rushed  to  his  brain  as 


POSTSCRIPT.  235 

fast  as  the  ideas.  It  flashed  on  him  in  an  instant  that 
if  Emma's  lover  were  really  Narui,  that  young  man  had 
completely  fooled  him;  that  the  Swiss  tour,  where  he 
thought  he  had  put  everybody  under  his  thumb,  had 
been  nothing  but  a  long  piece  of  bamboozlement ;  that 
he  had  played  Rouge  et  Noir  for  the  amusement  of  his 
son-in-law,  and  perhaps,  too,  under  his  very  eyes  ;  that 
he  had  spent  two  w&eks  in  pursuit  of  game  that  was 
slyly  waiting  for  him  in  its  lair  all  the  time;  that  the 
money  had  been  refused  merely  to  obtain  the  daughter, 
and  that  she  had  been  slighted  only  to  force  him  to  oifer 
her ;  that  the  quarrel  where  he  fancied  he  had  played 
the  part  of  a  hero  had  been  by  no  means  to  his  credit ; 
that  Narni,  his  seconds,  and  perhaps  even  Roblot  and 
Boucart,  had  amused  themselves  at  his  expense  in  the 
Bois  cle  Vineennes ;  that  the  wedding-day  had  cajsped 
the  climax  of  his  disrepute ;  and  that,  no  doubt,  at  this 
moment,  he  was  the  laughing-stock  of  ev^ery  man  in  the 
One  Hundred  and  Fourth,  from  the  colonel  down  to 
the  drummer-boys.  These  thoughts  shot  through  his 
brain  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  and  they  actually 
crushed  him  like  a  thunder-bolt.  He  started  up,' 
straight  as  an  exclamation-point,  and  cried  out  in  a 
choking  voice : 

"  Then  everybody  has  been  playing  h — " 
Very  likely  he  meant  to  say  that  his  son-in-law,  his 
daughter,  his  servant,  the  officers,  and  even  his  own 
seconds,  had  been  making  a  fool  of  him.  But  he  never 
finished  either  the  word  or  the  sentence,  for  he  was 
struck  with  apoplexy,  and  he  Avent  off  without  having 
time  to  develop  his  idea.  Perhaps  such  a  misfortune 
would  not  have  taken  place,  if  the  Captain  had  only 


236  ROUGE    ET    NOIR. 

listened  to  the  advice  of  his  physician,  who  had  been 
long  recommending  him  to  get  himself  bled.  Such, 
at  least,  was  the  learned  Doctor's  own  opinion.  As  soon 
as  he  arrived  at  the  house  of  his  patient,  or  rather  of 
his  subject,  he  could  not  help  uttering  a  cry  of  joy. 
"  Good !  "  said  he ;  "  another  proof  of  medical  foresight. 
It  is  no  doubt  a  terrible  blow  to  the  family;  but  just 
see  how  I  predicted  it !  " 

Emma  and  Meo  are  still  in  deep  mourning,  and  do 
nothing  but  weep  from  morning  till  night.  Their  affec- 
tionate hearts  will  never,  perhaps,  be  entirely  consoled, 
though  the  terrible  blow  which  they  lament  only  secures 
their  complete  happiness. 


THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


APR  IC 


.c:^ 


V.^ 


^^ 


\5trt 


\d^^ 


Form  L9-32m-8,'57(.C8680s4)444 


pr)___AbQut  -     ■ — 

2151    ^o^S®  ®"^  '^'^^^ 
[R2^E . 

1873 


'^^7V58  01233  8736 


PQ 

2151 

R75E 

1873 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  EACILITY 


AA    000  717  105    1 


